Spies, Lies and Truths
by TheTerribleTwos
Summary: Merlin is lying- again. And the consequences because of it are high, for Arthur is now on a quest to kill Emrys, and rescue Merlin. With deceptions and lies at every corner, how can this possibly end well? NO SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I (we) do not own Merlin. BBC does. If we did ( this is kinda a tag team thing) the show probably would have been shut down a LONG time ago from sheer weirdness! **

**Authors Note: Hello Everyone! Thank you so much for reading this story... well, I suppose since technically you haven't read it yet I shouldn't get my hopes up... :D So thank you for the thought at least entering your mind to maybe... not likely, but maybe waste who knows how many days of your life when you could be doing something useful like being a noble citizen and saving creepy puppies from trees... wait, err I mean kittens. Anyways I know that saying "We" may get a bit awkward but… I have a helpful accomplice who is much smarter and spells a whole lot better then I do , so I guess we will have to work around it. This story takes place close to the end of season three, and will probably have around 15 chapters. That's only a safe estimate though, there will more then likely be way more…I have a history of planning something reasonably short then falling in love with it and making it unreasonably large. But seriously thanks for reading!**

Chapter One

Arthur marched down the corridor looking for his idiotic, clumsy, _useless_ excuse for a manservant. He stormed down the hall and banged on Gaius' door. The physician calmly opened the door as if expecting who was outside.

"Gaius," Arthur said almost calmly, "have you seen Merlin?" Gaius hid a smile and nodded towards Merlin's room.

"In his room like he always is at this hour of the morning. Why? Do you need him for something?" Wordlessly Arthur strode across the room and without knocking, -Merlin never does so why should he?- opened the door. He practically fell over the mess that he encountered upon his hasty entry. He walked over to the bed, and stepped on a floorboard that felt a bit loose. On the bed asleep lied his ungainly manservant.

"Merlin! You idiot wake up! I'm going to be late because of you!" Arthur threw Merlin's jacket, which had been lying in a heap on the floor at his manservant's face. Merlin blinked his eyes owlishly, before rapidly jumping out of bed.

"Ehh? What? Err I'm awake!"

Apparently getting up so fast had been a mistake because Merlin accidentally banged his knee against his nightstand, causing a rather embarrassing scene.

"Merlin," Arthur said slowly, "Stop bumbling about and look at me." Merlin looked up and gave him a bright, goofy smile.

"Good morning, Sire." Merlin looked at the sky. "What's all the fuss? I'm not late, and I finished all of those _disgusting_ chores you so generously offered me." Merlin stopped his mouth hanging open. He gave Arthur a confused look, "What are you doing up? And dressed for that matter!"

Arthur laughed then said sarcastically, "Perhaps it's because my father has summoned me to the court… You have to come as well, because that's what smart, competent servants are supposed to do." Arthur waited, then threw up his arms. "Well get up! Get Dressed! I don't have all day!" Merlin quickly grabbed his clothes, and threw a fresh shirt over his head.

"So why are you being summoned?" Merlin asked. The half smile left Arthur's face.

"Didn't say exactly, but he hinted about going on a trip."

Merlin shook his head with distaste.

"Please don't tell me it's a hunting trip, I hate hunting trips!" Arthur looked at him with disbelief.

"Merlin, why would my father wake the court, rouse the nobles_,_ and honestly wake the entire castle, if I am just to go on a _hunting_ trip?" Merlin combed a hand through his unruly black hair.

"I dunno, maybe because he's trying to punish me for covering for you, like with Sophia and all those other times, and has finally realized that hunting trips are much more effective then all those useless trips to the stocks." Arthur snorted and thwacked Merlin over the top of his head as they walked out the door.

"Oh, and Merlin, You really should think about nailing this floor down properly. You're the servant to the prince, it's embarrassing!"

…

Merlin's head was spinning as he and Arthur strode down the corridor. Something was about to happen, something big. It wasn't just this unexpected meeting in the throne room that aroused his suspicions either. Tension was building in the air, something was building and growing and pretty soon Merlin new it would crack. Merlin was so caught up in his thoughts that as they stepped around a corner his foot caught getting tangled with his other one and he slipped. He would have hit the ground face first, but Arthur's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, saving him from a rather embarrassing accident. Arthur glanced down at him perplexed.

"You really don't have any natural talent do you Merlin?" Merlin was about to shoot him a retort when Arthur freed his arm and walked on. Merlin sheepishly followed. Upon seeing Arthur, the Guards at the throne room door stepped back and opened the doors for their prince who strode through, Merlin on his heels. King Uther was sitting on his throne, reading a report. In the morning light his face looked hard, sharp, and regal, everything a King should be- and everything a father shouldn't. Arthur straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Father," Arthur said loudly, "you summoned me?" The King looked up from the report he was reading.

"Arthur, you are late." The King looked disapprovingly at his son's manservant. Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably. Arthur cleared his throat.

"I am sorry father, I had business to attend to." Merlin was quite proud of Arthur for he didn't even glance his way. The King shook his head disbelievingly, but let the subject drop.

"There have been reports of Mercenaries once again gathering in Cenred's Kingdom, though scouting parties have yet to give me a clear number as to how many." Behind him Merlin heard a creak as the great, double doors opened. Morgana gracefully glided into the room, smiling and pleasant. Wordless she took her place by Uthers side, slipping her hand in his.

"Do you believe Cenred is planning another attack on Camelot?" Arthur asked. The King nodded slowly.

"Indeed, I do." Arthurs reply was immediate "Then we must prepare. Gather the army to defend Camelot. We must attack him while he is unaware, for that is the only way to lessen the bloodshed on both sides." Uther shook his head.

"I said, I believe. I am not yet sure. And I don't want to start a war unless it's absolutely necessary, especially when he could be attacking any of our other enemies."

"Or Allies." Arthur pointed out. "Or Allies." Uther conceded.

"So what is it that you ask of me?" Arthur asked. "Just say the word father and my Knights and I are at your disposal."

Uther smiled. "I'm afraid what I ask of you son, Is much more difficult then swordplay. I wish for you to travel to Cenred's Kingdom and find out what he is up to. You can send one of your knights in to ask the questions but I don't trust anyone else to lead them." Arthur nodded feeling slightly flattered.

"So you wish me to become a spy?" Arthur clarified.

Uther nodded, "I think this will be an excellent learning experience for you son. When you are king, Arthur, there will be no end to the intrigue and lies, far more then you experience now. As king, people will look you in the eye, and say they are your friend, that they will be with you until their last breath, but in truth they are just seeking information or just favor in your eyes. You need to learn how to spot these

people, to know who they are and their ways, and what better way then to become one of them." Merlin looked at the ground, a lump forming in his chest. He knew he was not one of those people, but he feared Arthur may not see it that way on that dreaded day. Morgana was watching them shrewdly, her hand stroking Uthers.

"My Lord," Morgana said smoothly, "I would like to write letters to our allies and tell them to prepare for war. Would you be so kind as to lend me your seal ring, so the warning will come directly from you?" Uther turned his head to look at Morgana endearingly.

"My dear, you need not trouble yourself with such matters. I will send the letters personally." Morgana's face took on that reasonable but determined expression that she had always used whenever she wanted Uther to do something. It was so familiar, so much like the old Morgana, his friend, that Merlin's stomach clenched.

"My Lord I wish to help," Morgana said, "I cannot just sit by and do nothing while our kingdom is on the verge of war, and if writing letters is all I can do, I wish to do it." Uther chuckled and said quietly to himself.

"Of course you do. You have too much of your Father in you to not want to." Uther then sighed and said, "I need to oversee to the letters myself, but I will find something for you to do, I promise." Merlin saw Morgana's eyes flash in annoyance, but he knew he only caught it because he was looking for it.

Morgana smiled, then said demurely, "Of course. Thank you My Lord." Uther smiled, then turned back to Arthur.

"You will leave this morning, I have preparations already being made." Arthur nodded his head in respect. "Yes Father, I will not fail you." Uther smiled, "I know you will make me proud, son."

…..

Arthur sat down heavily and sighed. He was in his chambers, alone besides Merlin, who did not count. They had a lot to do and very little time to do it. Well, at least Merlin did. He was bustling from one side of the room to the other, packing clothes, weapons and anything else they might need for their little vacation. Arthur leaned back, his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He had already picked the knights he would like to accompany him, Sir Allen and Sir Kay, both honorable, and kindhearted men. They would do well. Arthur practically jumped out of his skin as he heard a crash. His eyes flew open, and he sat up with a jolt, his hand flying instinctively toward his sword, which wasn't there. Merlin lay sprawled on the ground, wrapped in the red curtains that were supposed to be hanging around his bed, a bag of Gaius' potions lying beside him, surprisingly unharmed. Arthur shook his head in disbelief. Only Merlin…

"Merlin," Arthur said irritably. Merlin sat up and grinned sheepishly at Arthur.

"Sire?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "Clean it up."

He said with a sigh. Merlin nodded and set hastily to work. Arthur stood up and started to pace,

"Oh, when you're done with that I need you to pack some peasant clothes for me, but don't get that horrible scratchy material you got last time… Ugh." Arthur wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Merlin gave him a puzzled look, "Why not?" Merlin asked innocently. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Because Merrrrlin, it itches."

Merlin shook his head and laughed. "That's what the rest of us wee mortals wear, your extremely royal prattiness." Arthur turned, leaning against the bedpost in mock annoyance.

"What would you have me do?" he asked, gesturing widely with his arms, "Buy a wardrobe worthy of a prince for every single citizen of Camelot?" Merlin shook his head with complete conviction,

"Of course not." Merlin said, throwing the last of his prince's clothes into the bag. Arthur nodded, happy that Merlin had finally given a sensible answer. "Just for me."

….

Morgana stood in her chambers, peering out her bedroom window at the courtyard below. Arthur and his knights were sitting astride their horses, waiting patiently, or in Arthurs case restlessly, for Merlin.

Merlin… how she hated that name! A name that she used to trust with her entire heart… but whatever relationship they used to have, whatever friendship or connection… was shattered beyond repair.

Much was shattered beyond repair in her life. The only thing that she had left, was Morgause, and her hatred for her father, Uther. She shifted uncomfortably to her other foot. Tonight she would be able to please Morgause and strike at Uther in one move.

All she had to do was wait.

And she waited, as below her Merlin came running back apologizing profusely, she waited as Arthur good naturedly thwacked him over the head. She waited, as the small party rode through the gates of Camelot, and still she waited as they disappeared from sight.

Tonight she would put their plans into motion. All she had to do was wait.

…

The sun set in a beautiful display of red and orange, as the citizens of Camelot closed up their shops, and happily headed home after a hard days work.

Nobody noticed a dark figure gliding through the dimly lit, shadowy hallways. The cloaked figure turned a corner, heading straight for the Kings chambers. Her pace did not slow as she walked towards the guards, who had not yet noticed her presence.

Too late did they turn, for her eyes flashed gold beneath the cloak, and they fell into an eternal sleep. She smirked as she stepped over them and quietly opened the door.

Inside Uther lay asleep, ignorant to all around him. Morgana glared at him hatefully, wanting nothing more then to kill him where he lay. She shook her head. Morgause had other plans for him first.

She slowly walked towards him. His signet ring was slipped firmly over his ring finger, and his ring finger was resting even more firmly under his head. She stood over him, listening to his slow, rhythmic breathing.

Her eyes flashed gold and the ring slithered off his finger into her outstretched hand. Uther's breathing broke, and he shifted uncomfortably. Morgana held her breath.

Uther grunted, turned over, and went back to sleep.

The Kings ward smiled and turned around, walking out of his chambers, past the sleeping guards, who would never again see the light of day.

….

Merlin ducked. Arthurs hand went flying teasingly over his head. They were sitting at the campfire, exhausted but cheerful after a long days ride.

"Only_ you_ Merlin could fall off your horse not once, no, but twice!" Arthur laughed. "Only you could be such a pompous dopplehead, to think it is funny when an innocent subject like myself, falls from their noble horse!" Merlin said in mock offence. Sir Allen choked back a laugh, slowly turning a rabbit on a spit. The savory aroma filled the air. Merlin's stomach growled.

"Is it done yet?" he moaned, "I'm starving." Sir Allen smiled at him.

"Not quite yet lad, not quite yet." Merlin nodded. He was actually enjoying himself. Sir Allen and Sir Kay were good men and treated him not as much as a servant as some of the other knights. He had spent the day laughing with, and insulting Arthur, who being away from the castle had relaxed tremendously, and politely exchanging pleasantries with the Knights. It was a three days ride to Cendred's kingdom, and Merlin was going to enjoy every minute of it.

….

The trees thinned and Merlin saw Cendred's castle swarm into view. He looked nervously at Arthur, who had already changed into the peasant clothes Merlin had packed for him. Arthur caught his look and smiled encouragingly. "Don't look like such a girl MERlin. We're here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hello again! Well since you are reading this chapter the last one must not have been tooo horrible. :-) Thank you sooo much for alll of the reviews, they really do make our day! So thanks, Falling down the stairs, 1 :-), Ebonyice, and Notquitebezerk. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2

The black stones of the castle stood out against the clear morning sky. The castle's towers were EXTREMELY tall and sharp –like they were designed to impale an unsuspecting bird, looking for a place to land.

Merlin imagined Cenred standing in the courtyard and yelling up at an unfortunate servant clinging to the top of the tower, that he couldn't come down till the tower was sharp enough to meet his approval.

As Arthur, Merlin, and the Knights rode up, Merlin whistled, "Wow," he said. "And to think I once thought Camelot was uninviting." He murmured to himself. Arthur shot him a puzzled look, and Merlin realized he had been overheard.

"Why is that?" Arthur asked.

"Why's what?" Merlin asked as innocently as he could, and for his troubles received an eye-roll.

"Why did you think Camelot was uninviting? I thought you came here, uh I mean there, to as you put it 'fit in'." Merlin thought of his first day in Camelot and shivered. That had been the first time he had ever seen someone die.

"No reason," he lied. Arthur snorted but said nothing, and Merlin thought he was off the hook for his slip-up until Arthur moved his horse right next to Merlin's and thwacked him over the head.

"Oww!" Merlin yelped. Arthur grinned.

"Now," he said in his most princely manner, "Stop avoiding the question and answer me. Or have you forgotten I am prince? I mean really Merlin, I shouldn't have to wring answers out of my own servants!"

"Why not when it's none of your business?" Merlin grumbled to himself.

"Hmm?" Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing Sire." Merlin answered. Arthur waited. Merlin gave what sounded like a long suffering sigh.

"Well lets see, first there was that awful execution-"

"That was upholding the law of Camelot," Arthur interrupted. "That man was a known sorcerer, and a public execution was the only way to show that such acts will not be tolerated. He was a sorcerer Merlin, so there's no reason _that_ should make Camelot uninviting." Merlin suppressed a wince.

"Of course, Sire." Merlin said dutifully, then hurried on. "Then I got thrown into prison because some prat-"

"Excuse me? Which one of us tried to punch the other in the face?" Arthur interrupted again. "Anyway I can't help it that you're an idiot." Merlin ignored him. He was just getting started.

"Then after a stinky, smelly night in prison –and may I mention you have a rat infestation!- I got thrown into the stocks! And in these stocks they didn't just throw rotten tomatoes, Oh no, they had to throw potatoes. Potatoes! That on top of the mace fight, and getting beat up with a broom-" Merlin was cut off by a wave of the hand from Arthur. He had turned his horse around and was gathering the Knights around him. Merlin realized that the tree-line was now quite far behind them. They were about to enter the city.

"Ok men," Arthur was saying, "As you all know we are on a mission from my father, and that alone means we must not fail. This is not the kind of mission we are used to- no bandits, or sorcerers, or man-eating monsters," The men chuckled quietly to themselves, "But that makes this mission no less important. We are not just on a mission from our King, but from all of Camelot. A mission for Camelot." Arthur said quietly.

"For them we must not fail." The Knights nodded their heads solemnly.

Merlin watched in amazement. How could someone be so prattish one minute, and so achingly inspiring the next?

"Now, when we enter the city, we must find out what Cenred is planning, and report it to my father, no matter what. If things do not go according to plan, and we get separated, remember, the mission does not stop. Sir Kay, I want you and Sir Allen to ask around, hit the streets, the people are bound to know something. Merlin and I will go to the tavern-

plenty of drunk soldiers there, who may spill a little information… If not we may have to go to more extreme measures, and have to sneak into the castle, but I'm sure it will not come to that. Now, for Camelot!"

"For Camelot!" The men cheered. Arthur turned his horse back around and started riding towards the gates. The Knights and Merlin followed. The gates to the lower city were open. But a soldier with a sword at his side and a spear in his hands, stood to one side of the gate- to keep an eye out for suspicious people who might be an enemy to his King. Like them. Merlin gulped.

"Hey Arthur," he said quietly. "Maybe you should drop to the back of the line, and keep your head down. You know, just in case." Arthur gave him his best arrogant- no wait, supercilious- look.

"Don't be such a girl Merlin, with these clothes and all this horrible dirt on my face, that guard won't look twice at me." Arthur said confidently. Nevertheless, Merlin noticed Arthur discretely slipping behind everyone else and after a hesitant second, bowed his head. Merlin stared. Then suppressed a grin.

The arrogant prat had actually gotten over his pride and had listened to him! Merlin's sense of victory didn't last long though, for as they were about to ride through the gate, the guard lifted his spear and pointed it –much to Merlin's horror- straight at him!

"What is your business here?" The guard asked suspiciously. Merlin's throat went dry. "Uhh our business here?" Merlin squeaked.

The guard looked down his nose at him –quite an impressive feat, considering he was below him. The guard was young, short and skinny, and had a mess of wavy blond hair on his head. Despite his stature the man had an aura of, well, the only thing Merlin could pin it as, was 'I'm sooo much better then you'-ness about him. Like a mini Arthur, Merlin thought with a smirk.

"Our business here?" Merlin stalled. "Well, that is really quite simple really. Quite simple." Merlin gave the guard his best idiotic grin.

"But uhh, it may take a very long time to explain. So, what I mean to say is, I really don't want to waste the time of a gentleman like yourself, because I know you have dangerous criminals, and desperate outlaws, and ferocious spies who are very, very scared – uhh, I mean scary, to catch." The spear was pressed to Merlin's chest.

"I think I can spare a moment." Mini Arthur said smoothly.

"Well, alright." Merlin said reluctantly, glancing at Arthur and the Knights. They stared back. No help there then.

"It's an extremely boring tale though, but if you insist-"

"Oh, I do," Mini Arthur responded leaning lazily back against the castle wall.

"This sounds like quite a tale. And as you can see," He motioned at the sun, which had just risen. "I have practically all day, now go on."

"Well, uhh, we are, umm… well you see, we are here because we are… Traders! Yes, Traders."

The guard smirked. "Really?" he drawled. "And where is your merchandise? Oh, traders?" _This guy isn't buying this_, Merlin thought, panic beginning to sink in.

"We don't have it with us," Merlin answered evenly, "We came here to buy, not sell." The guard nodded seriously. "That makes sense, so what is it you are here to buy?"

"Uh," Merlin thought quickly. "Pots! We're here to buy pots. The demand is very high on them right now." The guard shook his head condescendingly.

"Yes… Pots. So how long are you going keep this charade up? I am not an idiot, I know you are lying." Merlin's throat partly closed up with terror, as he glanced at Arthur. "Lying, I'm not lying! What are you talking about? I don't-"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted calmly. "We've been caught," Arthur shrugged like he had just lost a card game –not, possibly their lives. "Now stop bumbling, and tell him the truth." The rest of Merlin's throat closed up.

"The truth!" Merlin squeaked. "Yes, Merlin" Arthur sounded as if he were talking to a small child. "Just admit it. Tell the man you are a gambler."

"A WHAT!" Merlin squeak was so high pitched he wasn't sure if Arthur had even heard him.

"You see," Arthur explained, "Merlin here got into a gamble with my sister. Which was quite stupid of him, really. But this is Merlin we are talking about, I guess we can't expect any better." Merlin stared at him in shock, but Arthur went on.

"You see, my sister Mor- Morlane, talked Merlin into an arm wrestling match. The deal was that if Morlane won, Merlin would buy her two silk dresses, but if Merlin won, Morlane would buy him three pots. And like an idiot Merlin agreed to it." Realization dawned on Merlin. Two silk dresses, Merlin shook his head. Really, sometimes Arthur was a whole lot smarter then he looked. The guard shook his head in wonder.

"Your sister beat him in an arm wrestling match." Mini Arthur said slowly.

"I was tired!" Merlin exclaimed indignantly. The guard chuckled.

"Well, that's some sister." Arthur nodded in agreement. "She is. So you can see Merlin was quite embarrassed about this. I suppose you can understand his predicament."

The guard nodded in mock sympathy.

"Well, I've had a good day," the guard said stretching. "I think I can afford to let you four dim-wits, in." Merlin sighed in relief.

"Thank you." Arthur said stiffly. Merlin could tell that his pride had been prickled by the guard's comment. Without another word they rode into the city.

...

"I cannot believe that silk dress story worked twice!" Merlin laughed, "I mean it's not even that believable! How on Earth did Miny Arthur fall for that?

"Mini what?" Arthur asked in disgust. Merlin grinned.

"Mini Arthur, oh come on Arthur, you know that guard acted a whole lot like you. Had the same…supercilious, prattishness about him."

"Right," Arthur said rolling his eyes. "That guy was nothing like me, he was totally arrogant!"

"Supercilious." Merlin corrected. Arthur ignored him and addressed his Knights.

"Ok men, split up. If you don't have any luck, meet us at the tavern. That's where all the drunk soldiers are going to be." Sir Kay and Sir Allen, nodded and rode off. Arthur gestured to Merlin.

"Come on, Merlin. We don't have all day!" Merlin followed, then said, "So, where exactly is this tavern we are supposed to find?" Arthur glanced behind him and answered, "I think I can conclude that the building with all the drunk idiots outside it and the big sign…"

Merlin grinned sheepishly. Merlin glanced around at his surroundings. The city was filled with houses crammed in spaces so tight, Merlin wasn't sure he could walk between them. People were laughing and talking in a roar of indiscernible voices.

Even on their horses- which in Camelot would give them straight passage even in the most crowded areas- it was hard to get through the unbreakable wave of people. And was it just Merlin's imagination or was the crowd getting thicker?

Another rider on horseback rammed into Merlin. Yep, most definitely getting thicker. Merlin jumped as a fireball swirled into the air. The people cheered and clapped. At the center of the crowd outside the tavern, a man in a black cloak, with fire bouncing along his arms, was putting on a show.

The people whistled and little kids hopped up and down excitedly as another multi-colored fireball exploded in the sky. Merlin had to suppress a grin. That was what magic was supposed to be used for. It was a thing of beauty, not destruction. Merlin glanced nervously at Arthur to see how he was taking it. Not well. Arthur was as stiff as a board and bone white.

"Come on Arthur," Merlin murmured quietly. Arthurs breathing was coming out in short puffs.

"That man is a sorcerer! A sorcerer Merlin!" Merlin's lips quirked.

"Really? Never would have guessed." Surprisingly Arthur didn't glare at him. That alone showed how upset he was.

"Why don't those people run him through?" Merlin glanced at the black cloaked figure. "Because I do believe that they are enjoying his show. Arthur magic is perfectly legal here." Arthur glanced at him in confusion.

"That doesn't make it any less wrong. How come you are taking this so well? That man is Evil!" Merlin didn't look Arthur in the eye

"Honestly Arthur I'm not taking this well, its just, we have to focus on our mission. We can't bother with sorcerers right now. Now come on." Arthur sighed unevenly and nodded. With Merlin leading a slightly shaken Arthur, they left their horses and entered the tavern.

...

The tavern was dark, and hot. The smell of roasting meat assaulted their noses. The tavern was filled with big beefy soldiers, and they were all downright drunk.

Behind the bar was a large, fat bald man, with sunken eyes and a big nose. The man had a conniving, greedy look in his eye. Merlin disliked him instantly.

"Let's get this over with, if we split up we'll get this done faster." Arthur whispered. "I'll go talk to those soldiers over there." Arthur pointed to his right. Merlin nodded in agreement.

"Ok, and I'll get the ones on the left." Arthur shook his head.

"No, I'll get those too." Merlin gave him a bewildered look.

"Then who am I supposed to talk to?"

Arthur grinned and shoved him towards the barkeeper. Merlin stumbled forward and hit the bar.

The barkeeper gave him a fake smile.

"What d'you want, lad?" he asked. Merlin gave him one of his biggest grins.

"Uh, hi." Merlin said. The barkeeper rolled his eyes and was about to walk away, when Merlin spoke again.

"W-wait!, sir, I would like to ask you some questions." The man looked annoyed.

"And what would they be?" He said. Merlin plopped himself onto a barstool.

"Well, I was just wondering why all these mercenaries are swarming into the kingdom? We're not about to go to war are we?" The bartender slammed a bottle onto the counter, and leaned close to Merlin's face.

"I don't know what your talking about." He said coldly. Merlin's grin wavered, then shot back to it's normal size.

"Alright, thanks for the help." He turned away to walk back to Arthur, then changed his mind. Swiveling back around he plopped back into his stool.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he pressed. The bartender glared icily.

...

Arthur walked over to a table full of inebriated, wine guzzling, soup slurping, soldiers. Arthur shook his head in disgust, '_my men would never act this way'_, he thought. Arthur sat down and they stared at him.

"Morning." He said pleasantly. They nodded then continued guzzling their wine.

"Sooo, what's up with all these mercenaries?" Arthur asked conversationally. They stared at him blankly. It looked like, whatever they did know they had forgotten.

An older man entered the tavern, and sat at a table across the room from Arthur. As he sat down Arthur caught his gaze, and the man stared at him intently. Arthur shivered, and turned back to the men.

"Who here wants another bottle of wine? Arthur asked amiably. "Cause it's on me." The men's faces broke into smiles and they clapped him on the back.

"There's a good man." One man said.

"A very good one." Said another.

"Understands the importance of a good drink!" said a third. As Arthur was paying for the drinks he looked over at Merlin to see how he was faring. Merlin seemed to be working his charms on the bartender whose face was red with rage. Arthur shook his head with a small smile. The older man made to walk up to the bartender, then stopped halfway there. The man turned and walked over to Arthur.

"I know you!" he said loudly.

...

Merlin dropped his conversation with the bartender and turned when he heard the man talking to Arthur.

"Really?" Merlin heard Arthur say calmly. Arthur looked comfortable and relaxed, but Merlin could see how agitated he was.

"Yes, I do." The man said triumphantly, and Arthur stiffened.

"You're Prince Arthur of Camelot!" the noisy room suddenly went eerily quiet.

"No, I'm not." Arthur said feigning perplexity. The man grinned.

"Nice try, boy. But I've seen you before." The man reached for his sword and Arthur jumped up, his stool falling backwards. Merlin looked to see if the drunk soldiers believed the old one. The rest of the men were standing up and reaching for their weapons. Apparently so. Arthur lifted his hands in a non-threatening way.

"Friends," he said reasonably, "I don't know what you are talking about but I can assure you I am not-" He was interrupted by a man charging him head on with an axe. Arthur dodged the swing, and grabbed him by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. The axe dropped to the floor with a *Thud.*.

"Well if we didn't know before," the bartender said wickedly, "we most certainly know now!"

...

Sir Allen could not believe the ignorance of these people. He and Sir Kay had asked almost everyone they had come in contact with, if they had any idea why mercenaries were coming, and who they were meant to attack. Every time they got the same blank stare, and a hurried change of conversation.

What was going on? They were walking back to the tavern in defeat, and stopped when they heard angry voices from inside. A second later there was a clash of metal, a lot of yelling, and their prince shooting out of the tavern at a dead run. Arthur was followed by an angry mob of stumbling, drunk soldiers.

In the middle of the crowd was Merlin, obviously trying to protect his Prince, but nobody was paying him much attention. Sir Allen and Sir Kay jumped off their horses, drew their swords and took off at a run to defend their Prince.

...

Arthur dodged between the alleys hoping to lose his pursuers, _'Why? Why can't things ever go smoothly?_' Arthur thought, as he sidestepped a flying wine bottle. Arthur ducked between two houses, and turned sharply to the left, hopefully in the direction of the gate. He was cut off by a group of men from the tavern. Luckily only one of them seemed to have a sword. The rest were holding broken axes, clubs, or wine bottles. Arthur thought he even saw a broken chair leg.

Arthur skidded sharply, turned around, and took off in the other direction. More men stepped out in front of him. He was trapped.

The man with the sword smiled triumphantly, showing crooked yellow teeth.

"We've got you now, little prince!" The man said with a malevolent sneer. Arthur looked over his shoulder, and saw Merlin struggling to reach him through the crowd. Nobody seemed to realize he was with the prince.

The man charged, sword outstretched, followed by five men. Arthur reached for his sword. Suddenly the man slipped on a cord of rope Arthur hadn't seen a moment before. The man went sprawling. 'Well_, that was a bit of luck_.' Arthur thought, relieved. His relief didn't last long however, for the groups on both sides charged him, wine bottles, broken axes, knives, and broken chair legs raised high.

Luckily all the men were blind drunk. Arthur ducked a sloppily thrown punch, and retaliated with one of his own. A big beefy man stabbed at him with a knife, which Arthur knocked aside with a swipe of his sword. Three men grabbed him from behind, while a fourth swung a club the size of Merlin at him. Arthur threw his feet up, and kicked the man in the chest, then fell between the men's arms. He hit the ground and rolled evading a well-aimed kick.

He jumped up, backhanded a man in the nose and sprinted for the first opening he could find. In front of him he heard a *Clunk*, and upon rounding a corner he saw Sir Allen standing over an unconscious man, and upon further inspection Arthur realized it was the bartender.

Sir Allen had knocked him out with the hilt of his sword. Arthur winced. The bartender would be waking up with a serious migraine.

A few feet away, Sir Kay was engaging three more men. Arthur ran to his knight's aid. One man saw him coming and raised his knife, in a very threatening-like way. However the effect was ruined by the shaking of his hand.

Arthur looked at his face, he was young. About Merlin's age. He really didn't want to hurt or much less kill this man.

Arthur drew his sword meaningfully. The knife shook even more.

The man attacked. Arthur sidestepped his swing, and planted his foot, tripping the man up. The man jumped up and continued his assault. Arthur dodged once more, then upon further attack, slashed the man on the elbow.

The man staggered and clutched his arm, Arthur sighed, then gave him a pointed look. The man took the hint and ran.

He turned around just in time to see Sir Allen knock another man unconscious with the hilt of his sword. '_Where did he learn that_?' Arthur thought to himself, with a shake of his head. Sir Kay had chased off the third. Arthur looked around, where on Earth was Merlin? Arthur glanced at his men and sighed, hearing more shouting and a *clash*. "Come on men, we need to get out of here."

…

Merlin had seen the man with the sword charge Arthur, and with a flash of his eyes, had pulled the rope taut. Nobody seemed to realize he was even with Arthur. Merlin watched as his friend evaded the attacks, and took off down an alley. Some of the drunken soldiers shook their heads in disgust, and walked away. Probably back to their bottles.

However about five or six remained, one of which being the man he'd tripped. The men climbed shakily to their feet, and began to follow after Arthur.

Merlin couldn't let them reach him. He glanced around at his surroundings, looking for anything to use. His eyes fell upon some huge wine-barrels. Perfect. His eyes flashed.

….

Arthur with his knights ran back the way they had come, in search of Merlin. They didn't have to go very far. Upon rounding the corner they skidded to a stop. Arthur's jaw dropped.

Merlin was standing in the alleyway amidst about six unconscious men. Wine was spilled everywhere. Arthur stared at Merlin in shock. Merlin turned his head, and gave Arthur his best idiotic grin.

"Merlin… what on Earth happened?" Arthur said stunned. Merlin shrugged, his grin widening, and said simply,

"They tripped." Arthur glanced at the unconscious men, and stared at Merlin disbelievingly. Merlin was saved from uncomfortable questions by the sound of pounding footsteps. Arthur glanced at Merlin, and Merlin knew they would be continuing this conversation later.

"Hide!" Arthur quickly hissed. They ducked into the nearest doorway, luckily it was empty. They heard the footsteps grow louder as men –obviously wearing metal boots- approached. One of the unconscious men groaned loudly. They heard a voice say,

"What happened here?" Merlin sucked in his breath as he recognized the voice of Mini Arthur.

"Captain!" The man with the sword stood up. 'Captain?' Merlin thought.

"It's the Prince- the Prince of Camelot! He's here! In the city! My men and I chased him, but he has escaped us." The Captain seemed surprised.

"In which direction did he go?" he asked. The man looked around, trying to remember. "He ran that way, Sir." He pointed to his right. The Captain nodded, and said to the soldiers behind him,

"Find them. We may need them as hostages." The man with the sword was looking around confusedly.

"Yes, he ran that way. But I can't remember what happened after that. I do vaguely recall flying wine-barrels, and a falling roof-tile." He clutched his head, wincing. Mini Arthur smirked,

"Maybe you should go lie down." The man nodded, and hobbled off. The Captain was left alone in the alley. He shook his head and sighed. "How could I have been so stupid?" he murmured to himself. With a shake of his head he walked off in the direction of his men.

….

Merlin sighed in relief, that had been close! He had dreaded Miny Arthur- no wait, the Captain searching the houses. Merlin turned his head towards Arthur, to see what he had made of the man's flying wine-barrel statement.

Hopefully Arthur would just dismiss it as the man's drunkenness speaking. Arthur's face was unreadable. He was obviously thinking, Merlin just wished he knew what.

"We need to get of here," Sir Allen said nervously, looking over his shoulder.

"There's a back door." He pointed behind them. Arthur nodded his head.

"Alright, lets go." He said softly.

…..

They slipped quickly down the narrow alleyways, ducking and weaving, encountering no one. After a few minutes they saw the gate up ahead. It seemed empty and unguarded. That made Arthur more nervous then ever. Arthur had encountered battles before, many of them, and had risked his life countless times.

It wasn't that, that unnerved him. Everything that had happened in that alleyway with Merlin just didn't add up. Something seemed wrong. He was jerked out of his thoughts by Merlin clumsily stepping on his toe.

"Merlin!" Arthur hissed irritably. Merlin looked away sheepishly,

"Sorry Sire." Arthur looked at the gate. It was probably a trap, meant to lure them out, but they didn't have a choice. Arthur was sure if they stayed there much longer they would be discovered. It wasn't just drunken men after them now, it was well-trained, rested soldiers. Then there was that horribly arrogant Captain. No, Arthur certainly didn't want to encounter them. '_It's now or never_.' He thought to himself.

"Arthur," Merlin said nervously, "Something about this doesn't feel right."

'_You're telling me_.' Arthur thought with a snort.

"Don't be a girl Merlin!" Arthur slapped him on the back. "We'll be fine. Now let's get moving." Arthur said to his knights, "Before Merlin's knees give us away."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that." A voice behind them said calmly. The swirled around. Behind them The Captain was leaning leisurely against a wall, about ten soldiers surrounding him. The Captain grinned and gave Merlin a condescending look.

"Arm wrestling? Really?" Merlin shrugged, then pointed at Arthur.

"His idea, not mine." The Captain rolled his eyes, then said,

"Get them!" The soldiers stampeded towards them, weapons unsheathed. A sword went slashing towards Arthur's exposed neck. His sword flew up, blocked, then slashed back. Arthur's sword returned to guard position just in time to block an attack from another opponent. A couple of shingles fell off a roof, and knocked two of the soldiers out cold. But they were still dreadfully outnumbered, and Arthur could hear more soldiers coming. They would soon be surrounded.

"Retreat!" he shouted to his men. The Knights nodded in agreement, and started to back up. Arthur looked around and saw Merlin battling another soldier, he was doing surprising well. Nevertheless, sooner or later he was going to trip over himself and get skewered. Arthur went to his aid, and hastily finished off his opponent.

"Run, you idiot!" he shouted. Grabbing Merlin by the arm, he took off. They sprinted out the gates, only to be met by more soldiers waiting outside. Arthur desperately looked around for an opening. They were surrounded by about twenty soldiers. They skidded to a halt.

"What now?" asked Sir Allen. Arthur glanced at him and smiled,

"We are Knights of Camelot!" Arthur charged the men. The soldiers stared at him, then raised their weapons.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled, and took off after him.

…..

Merlin could not believe how stupid Arthur could be sometimes, and to think Arthur called him the idiot. Arthur attacked. Merlin raised his sword and plunged in after him, the Knights on his heels. After subtly tripping and knocking out a few men, Merlin saw an opening in the soldiers ranks. He looked at Arthur, who was taking on four men at once.

"Arthur! Over there!" Merlin nodded towards the opening.

"I thought I ordered you to run!" Arthur yelled, and blocked a wild swing.

"Since when did I start following your orders?" Merlin asked. Arthur disengaged from his opponents and once again grabbed Merlin by the arm, and said.

"Since now." They ran through the opening, the Knights following close behind. An arrow shot over Merlin's head, then another. They sprinted towards the trees. The soldiers, led by Mini Arthur, caught them when they reached the forest.

"Capture them, try not to kill them." Merlin heard the Captain say.

"Yes, sir." The men said. Three men started advancing upon Merlin. He backed up, and ran into a soldier behind him. The soldier threw an arm around his neck, and doubled Merlin's arm behind his back.

"Gotcha!" The soldier said triumphantly. Merlin struggled and jumped backward with all he had, causing them both to go tumbling over a log. The man's hold loosened, and Merlin scrambled away.

Five feet away, Arthur and the Captain were engaged in battle. Arthur seemed to be winning, until another soldier joined the fight, distracting Arthur long enough for the Captain to disarm him. Four more soldiers tackled Arthur, pinning him to the ground. "Sire!" Sir Allen yelled. Sir Kay rushed to Arthurs aid, stabbing one soldier in the back, while Sir Allen punched another. Arthur rolled, scrambling for his sword.

Behind Arthur, Merlin saw an archer pointing his bow straight at Arthurs back. The archer released the arrow.

Time slowed. Merlin didn't think –couldn't think, he must save Arthur. He ran and jumped in front of the arrow.

Time resumed.

Pain like he hadn't felt since he'd been blasted by Nimueh, seared through his shoulder. He screamed. His momentum carried him forward, and he rolled down a sharp hill into a ditch.

"Merlin!" he heard Arthur scream. The world went red, then black.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Merlin, BBC does. But maybe one day… :D

**Hi again everybody! So I would just like to apologize in advance for the horrible 'longness' of this chapter, I had a certain point that I needed it to end at and it took a whole lot longer to get there then I had anticipated… This story seriously seems to have a life of its own! New, random, unplanned characters keep popping onto the story, expanding the plot. We had an outline in the beginning, but the story just keeps getting bigger! So if you think this chapter is too long… well… all I can say is blame the story, not us****. :) Don't forget to review, it makes us sooo happy. Yikes, that last sentence sounded kind of creepy. Well anyways, Enjoy! **

Chapter 3

"Merlin!" Arthur screamed, as he saw his friend tumble down the hill, an arrow piercing his shoulder. Arthur made to scramble down the hill toward his manservant, then felt a sharp pain in his knee.

He looked down, and saw an arrow protruding from his leg. He stumbled, and lifted his sword just in time to block an attack.

"Sire!" Sir Kay exclaimed. "We have _got_ to get out of here!" A soldier swung his sword toward Arthur's other leg, Arthur clumsily engaged the soldier.

Another sword came out of nowhere and slashed him on the arm. Arthur's vision was getting blurry, he heard his Knights rushing to his aid.

"We are not leaving… without Merlin!" Arthur gasped. His leg was bleeding badly, if not treated soon he knew it would get infected, which could cost him the use of his leg.

"I'm afraid we have no choice Sire!" Sir Allen answered between blows.

"We _always,_ have a choice!" Arthur argued, stabbing at an opponent. Arthur nodded in the direction Merlin fell,

"We can retreat, but towards Merlin." The Knights nodded, then half dragged Arthur down the hill, fifteen men right behind them.

"Merlin!" Arthur called desperately. He got no answer. Arthur dug through the leaves nearest him franticly. Arthur heard another arrow whistle past his ear.

"Sire…" Sir Kay said nervously. "We need to leave, _now_." Arthur ignored him. His eyes scanned the area. He would _not_ leave Merlin behind. He had just saved his life.

The soldiers made it down the hill. His Knights exchanged glances,

"Then Sire," Sir Kay said, "If you will not protect yourself, then it is our duty, as Knights of Camelot to protect you."

With that the last thing Arthur saw was the hilt of Sir Allen's sword rushing towards his head. Darkness closed in upon him, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

…..

Pain.

His shoulder felt like it was on fire. His hands were sticky, and he felt wind brushing against his cheek.

Merlin heard voices, people murmuring above him. Not Arthur, not Gaius, not his mother. Who then?

His eyes felt heavy, and his throat hoarse, like he'd been screaming. He concentrated on the voices above him.

"Is he alive?" he heard someone ask.

"Yes, his chest is moving." Someone else answered.

"Who is he? I've never seen him in the city." A third voice said. He heard twigs snapping as someone came near.

"What do you think happened to him?" A woman's voice asked nervously.

"Bandits?" suggested the first.

"We'll find out soon enough. Throw him over a horse!" said a commanding voice, obviously the leader of the group.

"Yes, my lord." Merlin felt firm hands gripping him under his knees and upper back. He winced and wanted to cry out, but found he didn't have the strength.

"He's losing a lot of blood." The second person said.

"Let's throw him over _Danen's_ horse." A voice said a few feet away. "His horse is ugly enough, a little bit of blood can't make it look any worse." The men laughed.

"Hey!" a young voice said laughing slightly, "Its charm! Not Ugliness!" Merlin guessed this was a long going joke that was more fun then insult.

Like he and Arthur had begun to act around each other. '_Arthur_!' Memories hit Merlin like a stone wall.

The tavern, the soldiers, they had been trapped in forest, did the others make it out ok? Fear caused Merlin to open his eyes. He was staring up at the sky, a blue dome going on and on and on…

Merlin's head spun, he felt like he was going to be sick, and he knew he was about to lose consciousness.

"He's awake!" the young voice- Danen's, Merlin remembered – cried. The man holding him looked at him closely.

"He's in shock, we need to get him to Ollic _now_." Merlin heard a horse's footsteps approaching. The man holding him looked up and so did Merlin. Astride the horse was a tall man in noble-men's clothing, with a narrow and clean shaven face, sharp eyes and hair that was brown, just going grey. Merlin could tell instantly that this man was hard, but maybe not unkind or cruel. The man looked at him and nodded.

"Let's go." He said. Merlin felt himself being thrown onto a horse's back then slipped into the nothingness that would stop the pain.

…..

_A fireball flew over his head, exploding behind him immediately after._

_People were dying, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't save them all. The land was burning, and arrows flew in the air like rain. He could hear shouts and battle cries, but mostly screaming. It was heartbreaking. He heard a man's laughter behind him. Then they all vanished, but the laughing continued._

_The scene shifted. He was standing in a stone courtyard, ringed with ruins. At Its center stood an alter. The Isle of the Blessed. He turned around…_

Merlin woke up, gasping for air.

He was in a large room with a domed wooden ceiling, and afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows. A man with a worn old face and close cropped white hair, was kneeling beside him, eyes closed, chanting.

Merlin stared at him puzzled, and then realization hit him like a jolt '_He's casting a spell over me_!'

Merlin flew up out of the bed he was lying in, and made to flee to the other side of the room, but his legs got tangled in his blankets so his escape out of his bed took a little longer and was a lot less graceful then he had intended. The man opened his eyes just as Merlin was stumbling to the other side of the room.

"Where do you think your going?" The old man asked with a slight smile. Merlin swiveled around, visions of war and fire still clear in his mind.

"Out! Away from you and your spells." Merlin said with complete conviction and not very well hidden fear. He dashed for the door.

The laughter, he couldn't get it out of his head. It had seemed so _real_. Merlin escaped out the door just as the old man/evil sorcerer called out with a chuckle,

"Wait! Come back, you idiot!" Merlin ran faster. He was in a hall filled with floor-to-ceiling windows and doors. Servants scuttled past him, giving him odd glances, but for the most part, ignoring him. His bare feet felt cold on the smooth stone floor. He sharply turned a corner, and ran straight into a male servant.

"Hey!" the servant yelped, rubbing his head. "What do you think-" He stopped, stared at him, and grinned.

"Wait a minute! You're that guy we found in the woods, with an arrow sticking out of your shoulder." Merlin looked down at himself, his hand instinctively going towards his shoulder. He gasped, startled.

The first thing he noticed was his clothes. All he was wearing was a whitish robe that was WAY too big for him. He quickly rolled up the way-too-big right sleeve of his robe, and looked at his shoulder. He had a long yellow bruise stretching the entire length of his shoulder, but besides that it was entirely healed. The servant looked puzzled.

"Why hasn't Ollic healed you entirely? He should have been done by now." As if on cue, the heavy-set old man from the room came striding down the corridor, a no-nonsense look on his face.

"Well, at least I've got my daily work-out in for today." The old man said as he hobbled up to them. He turned his gaze to Merlin.

"Now, would you be so kind as to tell me why you just ran like a spooked horse from the infirmary, down the hall, making me chase you?" The old man asked with a raised eyebrow, reminding Merlin very much of Gaius. Merlin turned towards him, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

"I uhh, I thought you were casting a spell on me." Behind him, Merlin heard the servant stifle a laugh, but the man nodded.

"I was. It was a healing spell. Your shoulder was in a horrible state when they brought you to me yesterday." Merlin looked at him in wonder.

"You _healed_ me?" Merlin asked. The man inclined his head.

"Yes I did. That's what physicians normally do I have been told." Merlin started to grin. "With magic?" The old man rolled his eyes.

"Of course." He answered in an exasperated tone. He then looked at Merlin closely.

"Is that alright?" He asked carefully. Merlin's grin grew until he was positively beaming. "That's- that's, amazing!" Merlin said with a laugh. The old man stared at him like he was insane, but the servant clapped the old man on the back, causing him to wobble.

"He sure is! Ollic is the best physician we have ever had."

Ollic gave the servant a reproving look, obviously about to object to the young man's kind words but the servant cut him off.

"You are, no use denying it." He said with a smile. The servant then extended his hand towards Merlin.

"I'm Danen, the servant of the great Lord Haymor." He announced in a mock-formal voice and an over exaggerated bow. Merlin shook his hand, still smiling.

"Nice to meet you Danen, servant of the _Great _Lord Haymor!" He said with a grin. Danen laughed, then said.

"And you are?" Merlin tensed, 'I _need a name_,' he thought, '_I can't use Merlin_.' He then said the first thing that popped into his head.

"I'm Emrys." Danen tilted his head to one side slightly,

"It suites you." Merlin looked at him in surprise, then noticed Ollic giving him a sharp look.

"Emrys, an interesting name." Ollic said, his face unreadable. '_Uh-oh_' Merlin thought in alarm, but grinned widely,

"Yes, it is." Merlin said in a singsong voice.

"Danen," the physician said calmly, "I have not yet finished healing Emrys, and I do believe you have work to do."

Danen nodded at Ollic, then glanced at Merlin apologetically.

"Duty calls!" he said, then bounded off. As soon as he had rounded the corner, Ollic grabbed Merlin by the arm.

"Come along, _Emrys_." Ollic said stiffly. He started pulling Merlin down the corridor. Merlin paled, and looked away. After an uncomfortable silence they reached the infirmary.

Ollic quickly opened the infirmary door, and shoved a nervous Merlin inside. He came in behind him, and closed the door with a *Thud*. Ollic turned around and pointed towards the bed Merlin had been laying in ten minutes ago.

"Sit." He commanded. Merlin hurriedly sat down, not wanting to get on the physicians bad side.

"Now," the physician demanded, "Is your name _truly_ Emrys?" Merlin nodded as confidently as he could.

"Well… yes it is!" '_Well_ _at least that was only a half lie_.' Merlin thought regretfully. Ollic glared at him, and stepped closer.

"Are you lying to me, boy?" That statement reminded Merlin so much of Gaius, that Merlin said without thinking,

"No, well… sort of. That's what the Druids call me at least." The physician's eyes narrowed.

"The Druids," he said slowly. "And then what's your real name?" Merlin hesitated, and then opened his mouth to answer, when the door opened. Merlin turned his head and saw the rich noble from the woods walk in.

"Ah," the man said. "I see our mysterious patient is awake." Ollic straightened his shoulders then turned around.

"Lord Haymor." He said and inclined his head.

"Ollic." Haymor replied with a nod of his own. Merlin shifted uncomfortably in the bed, causing it to creak. There seemed to be a slight tension in the air.

Haymor walked further into the room, causing Ollic to frown slightly.

"How is he?" Lord Haymor asked, gesturing to Merlin.

"Better." Ollic replied curtly. Merlin saw Haymor's eyes flash slightly in annoyance, but it disappeared so quickly Merlin doubted it was ever there.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." Lord Haymor said briskly. With that, he walked over to Merlin.

"How does your arm fare?" Lord Haymor asked politely. Merlin grinned, then replied. "Very well, thank you my Lord. Ollic is one of the best physicians I have ever seen." Haymor glanced at Ollic and nodded.

"That he is. My wife-the Lady Monica- and I found you in the woods, with the arrow sticking from your shoulder. How did you come upon that injury?" Merlin looked away. "We- Uh," Merlin fidgeted uneasily, and then remembered the conversation he had heard while 'unconscious' in the woods.

"We got attacked by bandits, My Lord." Merlin said with an ease that came from a life full of lying. Haymor frowned,

"We? Who else was in your party?"

Merlin thought quickly, then decided to say as much of the truth as possible.

"My master and his retinue, I'm afraid none of them made it out alive." At this Merlin faltered. _Had _any of them made it out alive? He thought they had, but he wasn't sure. Fear, worry, and anxiety, all bundled together in Merlin's chest, making him feel sick with it.

Haymor studied his face, obviously seeing his distress.

"I am sorry." Haymor said solemnly. Merlin unconsciously wrung his hands, but glanced up at Haymor and smiled.

"Thank you my Lord." Merlin said, slightly hoarse. Haymor nodded then said with a thoughtful look on his face.

"What is your name lad?" Haymor asked. Merlin glanced uncomfortably at Ollic, hoping he would keep his secret. Or at least what he knew of it.

"My name is Emrys, my Lord." Merlin replied. Ollic frowned, but said nothing. Relieved Merlin went on, answering the questions he knew were coming.

"I'm from the Kingdom of Mercia- I live there with my uncle. My master came here to trade with the local business men. We got attacked right before we entered the city. At the tree-line."

Merlin finished, feeling slightly guilty with all the lies he was spinning. Nevertheless, they were his enemies, no matter how kind they were to him, and he couldn't afford to tell them the truth.

Not unless he wanted to get hung upside-down from the castle walls, as was the custom here he had been told. Haymor didn't seem to notice the guilty look on Merlin's face however as he asked,

"Do you plan to go back to Mercia? Because if you do I can arrange for the trip and you can be on your way by tomorrow morning." Haymor asked kindly. Merlin shook his head a little too quickly, strengthening the sick feeling in his stomach. Going on a detour trip to Mercia was the last thing he wanted.

He needed to get back to Camelot. He needed to make sure Arthur was ok.

He needed to report to Uther that the mission had failed…The mission. Merlin remembered Arthur's last words, right before they had entered the city.

'_Now, when we enter the city, we must find out what Cenred is planning, and report it to my father, no matter what. If things do not go according to plan, and we get separated, remember, the mission does not stop.' _

Merlin inwardly groaned. 'Great,' He thought to himself, '_I'm stuck here. In a kingdom where if they ever find out who I am they will have me killed. Well not really any change there then._' Merlin thought sadly.

'_I can go home just as soon as I find out what King Cenred is planning, and if I can, stop him. This is just a vacation. On the bright side while I'm here I don't have to scrub any armor or clean smelly socks or muck out stables_.' Merlin was knocked out of his thoughts by Haymor's voice,

"What? Why don't you want to go back to Mercia? Don't you think your uncle would worry?" Haymor asked. Merlin shook his head again-gently this time as he said,

"My Lord, I have failed, by not keeping my master safe. I cannot face the people I know there, especially not my uncle. Not yet. I do not think I could bare it."

Merlin said in what he hoped was a very ashamed and humiliated voice. He did quite well apparently as Haymor nodded his head in understanding. Merlin went on, speaking his thoughts aloud,

"I'll find a job, and a place to stay that is affordable. I have enough coins on me now to pay a months rent in advance- I hope. I don't really know how things work around here." Merlin said softly.

Haymor stood watching him, obviously weighing something in his mind.

"You said you were a servant for your old master?" Haymor asked slowly. Merlin nodded, wincing slightly at the term 'old master'. Haymor went on,

"I have recently lost a servant who went off to help his father in the fields. As a result I am a servant short. While you are here, and until you find a different job, you can take his place temporarily. If you prove yourself to be reliable, diligent, and trustworthy, you can have the job permanently. Do you accept my offer?" Haymor asked.

Merlin stared at him taken aback. Why did this man show him such kindness? No doubt he would be fired within a week for being the worst man-servant ever, considering he had a track record of being neither reliable, nor diligent. Trustworthy- yes, but he would fail in that area too with Lord Haymor considering he was here as a spy from his enemy.

No, he wouldn't last long. '_Don__'__t do it Merlin_,' he begged himself, '_you'll get caught. Just living in the town is one thing, but living in the Castle with Miny Arthur tramping about all the time since he is a captain is quite another. There is no way you can pull this off._

_The town people are useless._' He told himself sternly, '_I already know that. Asking them anymore questions isn't going to get me anywhere. The castle is my best bet_.'

Merlin smiled up at Lord Haymor.

"Yes, I accept. Thank you very much." Merlin said sincerely. '_You're an idiot_.' He told himself.

Lord Haymor smiled slightly.

"Good," He said, "I expect to see you in my rooms bright and early tomorrow morning. My other servants can instruct you on what to do and where to sleep." Haymor said easily.

Merlin looked at him in confusion.

"Where to sleep?" Merlin asked, "What do you mean?" At this Haymor raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"I have a servant's chamber connected to my rooms. All of my servants live there, as I may need them in the night. You will be staying there as it is a requirement, and since you have no other place to go." Haymor answered.

Merlin grinned at him, delighted.

"So let me get this straight: You are giving me a job, and a place to stay, free of charge?" Merlin asked, beginning to laugh at his good fortune.

Haymor nodded and smiled slightly.

"Oh thank you!" exclaimed Merlin, jumping out of bed to shake a startled noble's hand. "You won't regret this" Merlin said with as much conviction as he could. He heard Ollic stifle a snort behind him.

"Ill work harder then all your other servants combined!"

Haymor smiled coolly, "I'm sure you will. Now, I must return to my duties." Haymor glanced at Ollic,

"Good day."

Merlin bobbed his head, still grinning, "Good day, My Lord."

Haymor had just reached the door when Merlin had a sudden thought.

"My Lord," Merlin said hesitantly. Haymor turned his head, eyebrows raised.

"Just how many other servants do you have exactly?" Merlin asked uneasily. Lord Haymor smiled, giving Merlin the idea that he knew what he was thinking.

"Enough," Lord Haymor answered, eyes twinkling. With that he walked out and shut the door, leaving Merlin with visions of living with hundreds of bustling, noisy servants. When Lord Haymor was gone, Ollic walked up to Merlin with a jar of cream colored ointment.

Wordlessly Ollic sat Merlin down again on the bed and began applying it to the bruise on his shoulder. An uncomfortable silence weighed heavily in the air, in which Merlin fidgeted.

"Thank you," Merlin said at last to break the silence. Ollic looked at him questioningly, and then returned to treating the wound.

"For what?" Ollic asked, although Merlin was pretty sure he already knew.

"For not giving me away." Merlin answered anyway. "

Thank you for not telling Lord Haymor that my name really isn't Emrys." Merlin finished. Ollic gave him another questioning look.

" Isn't it?" Ollic asked, feigning ignorance. Merlin stared at him, bewildered, then said frustrated,

"No! Look, Ollic my name really isn't Emrys. My name is-" Merlin was stopped by a wave of the hand from Ollic.

"Your name," Ollic said slowly, enunciating every word. "Is Emrys, and that is all I will ever know."

Merlin stared at him in confusion, wondering at his sudden change of heart. Merlin thought Ollic was going to say nothing more, but then he sighed and said wearily, "Emrys, I know that you are not all that you seem and I am quite sure that that little tale you told Haymor was a complete lie. But," Ollic said cutting Merlin off again with a raised finger.

"I do not _need_ to be involved with whatever is going on here and, therefore I do not _want_ to. I'm getting too old to be getting involved with young people and their secrets. People have too many of them nowadays if you ask me. So many more then they did then when I was your age. Or maybe," Ollic said thoughtfully to himself,

"It's just the fact that I am now living in a castle, which is full of secrets, back-stabbers and spies, instead of living in the quite village I grew up in, that has changed." A chill of fear went down Merlin's spine as Ollic mentioned 'spies', just increasing Merlin's belief that Ollic new more then he was letting on.

"Ollic…" Merlin said nervously. Ollic glanced up from rubbing some green colored substance into his shoulder.

"Yes? What is it?" Ollic asked, his voice questioning but his eyes telling Merlin to drop the subject.

"I-uh, its just…I'm sorry." Merlin said lamely but no less heartfelt because of it. Ollic smiled sadly, then said,

"I don't see why you should be." Merlin nodded and let the conversation drop, but inwardly Merlin was smiling at the double meaning of Ollic's last sentence.

…

Merlin was lost.

He had been traveling the corridors of Cenred's castle for about half an hour now, and he still hadn't found Lord Haymor's rooms.

After Ollic had finished coating Merlin's shoulder in layer after layer of ointments and creams, and had gotten him something proper to were- nothing special, brown trousers, a white shirt and a brown jacket- he had told him to go to Lord Haymor's chambers and talk to the other servants there about the sleeping arrangements in the connected room.

Ollic had then proceeded to rapidly babble off about twenty-five step directions to get there, and then hastily pushed him out the door without another word.

Merlin had tried to ask the other servants for directions but most of them wouldn't even acknowledge his existence.

After the first ten minutes, Merlin had been reduced to aimlessly wandering the labyrinth of hallways in the castle, hoping that fortune might just smile upon him and he would magically appear in Lord Haymor's doorway.

But sadly, fortune had other ideas for him. '_Let's see,_' Merlin thought to himself, '_turn right at the stairs then take another right when you can see the stables in the courtyard through the window. Then take a left three hallway's down, and continue on until you reach another set of stairs, which you will follow up to the second story. Take a right after about 30 feet and then immediately after take a left… or was it immediately take a right and then take a left?_'

Merlin shook his head, partly in disgust partly in confusion. He was so off course Merlin knew that even if he _could_ remember the directions clearly it wouldn't help him much. He was in what seemed to be a remote part of the castle as he didn't see any servants scuttling about.

Merlin stopped walking to survey his surroundings.

He was in a corridor just like all the others with a wall of windows on his left and a curving stairway going up on his right. Behind him around a corner Merlin heard metal boots clanking and voices.

'_At last!_' Merlin thought to himself, relieved. '_Maybe these men will tell me how to finally get out of this blasted maze and to Lord Haymor's chambers.'_

Merlin's relief was short lived however as he soon recognized one of the men's voices. Merlin's heart jumped to his throat as he heard the lazily arrogant voice of Mini Arthur coming down the hallway.

Instinct kicked in as Merlin looked for a place to hide. The sound of metal boots clanging against the stone floor got louder as the men got closer and Merlin, in a panic, ran up the stairs as fast as he could, but stopped when he heard Arthurs name mentioned.

"…got away." Mini Arthur was saying. "I must report to the King that as of yet we cannot find them, but my men are out in the forest as we speak still looking for them." Merlin felt so relieved that Arthur was still alive that he almost cried out, giving himself away behind the curve of the stairs.

Merlin held his breath as the Captain and two accompanying soldiers walked by below him, then continued on. Merlin let out the breath he had been holding and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, letting the relief of knowing that Arthur was ok wash over him. "What are you doing?" a girls voice asked with a little laugh.

Merlin almost jumped out of his skin. In his haste to push himself off the wall and open his eyes, Merlin tripped slightly on the stairs so his foot slipped causing him to half fall half run down four steps where he whirled his arms and wobbled before catching his balance.

Above him, the girl said in distress, "Oh! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

Merlin looked up to see a girl of about twelve years with brown hair and brown eyes, wearing an old, ratty looking servants garb, looking down at him in concern. Her face was dirty, and smudged.

Merlin gave her his trademark grin.

"Oh yeah, don't worry about me, I'm fine. It wasn't your fault; you just startled me was all." The girl gave him a doubtful look then came down the stairs to join him.

"I haven't seen you in the castle before… Are you new?" She asked curiously.

Merlin nodded, preparing himself to recount the story he had told Lord Haymor.

"Yeah, I got here yesterday morning apparently."

At the girl's confused look, he continued.

"I got attacked by bandits and knocked unconscious with an arrow sticking from my shoulder. Lord Haymor found me and brought me to Ollic, who has done an excellent job in healing me up." Merlin said brightly.

The girl's eyes widened at Merlin's quickly reiterated story, and even more at the flippant way in which he told it.

"Wow," she said with a slight smile, "I think you give a new meaning to, what my brother would call 'jeopardy friendly'."

Merlin laughed and said with a shrug, "I've been told its one of my many natural gifts." The girls smile widened, warming up to Merlin's friendly personality.

"I'm Emma," She said, absently twirling her hair around her finger, "I'm a scullery maid in the kitchens."

Merlin held out his hand, which Emma took with a small laugh.

"Nice to meet you Emma," Merlin said happily, "I'm Me-er I'm Emrys." Merlin quickly saved. If Emma noticed Merlin's slip-up she didn't say so.

"So what are you doing in the left wing of the castle, in some forgotten stairway with your eyes closed." Emma asked teasingly. Merlin grinned sheepishly.

"I'm uh- looking for Lord Haymor's chambers. Ollic gave me directions but I kinda got lost." At this, Emma laughed outright.

"You can say so, if you're looking for Lord Haymor's chambers. They're in the right wing of the castle on the third story. Here," She motioned over her shoulder.

"Follow me. I can take you there, but then I have to get back to work."

Merlin smiled as he followed Emma through the corridors she knew so well. It reminded Merlin of how he acted in Camelot. He knew those hallways better then just about anyone.

"Thank you for doing this Emma," Merlin said, walking behind her. She glanced behind her, then said,

"Oh, I don't mind. Besides," Emma said with a laugh, "_someone _has to be there to make sure you don't slip on another stair case, or talk to the wrong people, or run into a wall…"

"Hey!" Merlin exclaimed, feigning indignation, "I wouldn't just randomly walk into a wall."

Merlin smiled to himself as the little girl laughed. He had been surprised when she had told him that she was a servant, despite the fact that she was wearing servant's clothes. She just seemed far too educated and well mannered, which didn't really compliment him, considering he _was_ a servant, but still.

Merlin followed her up a staircase, through a corridor and then turned right. Emma stopped walking and turned around.

"Well here we are," Emma said rapidly, pointing to a door. "That door leads into Lord Haymor's rooms, and that door," Emma said, pointing to a door right next to it on the left, "leads to the servant's chambers."

Emma looked over her shoulder as she heard people's footsteps about to round the corner.

"Good day Emrys." Emma said quickly, and after the fastest curtsy Merlin had ever seen, she scampered down hall and turned a corner before Merlin could even say 'thanks'. '_That was odd_,' Merlin thought to himself with a shake of his head. Merlin got out of the way as the cluster of servants rounded the corner.

As Merlin backed up, he recognized one of the servants as Danen, who was balancing a very large stack of linens on his arms.

"Danen," Merlin called, lifting his arm in a wave. When Danen saw him he smiled.

"Oh, Emrys, there you are! Lord Haymor told us you were coming, but I had expected you to arrive about an hour ago."

Danen staggered up to Merlin, holding the laundry on one arm, while the other hand fumbled with his keys.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was supposed to have gotten here a long while ago its just I got lost." Merlin said, slightly embarrassed. Danen laughed good naturedly and walked up to the door to Lord Haymor's chambers.

"Don't worry about it, its not a problem," Danen said pushing a key into the lock and then taking it out to try a different one.

"You should have seen me my first day here. I got so lost and turned around I wouldn't have even been able to show you where I had started if my life had depended on it." Merlin laughed. As Danen stuck another key into the lock, the linens wobbled. Merlin was going to ask Danen if he could help carry them, but decided against it, not wanting to offend him.

Instead he said, "That's me. I probably would still be wandering those hallways now, if Emma the scullery maid hadn't found me, and showed me the way here." That earned him a confused look.

"Emma?" Danen asked with a puzzled frown.

"I don't remember ever seeing an Emma. You said she is a scullery maid?" Merlin nodded, baffled himself.

"Yeah," Merlin answered, "she's very young, only about twelve or so, and she said she works in the kitchens." Danen raised both eyebrows and shrugged.

"Well I don't remember seeing her…but, maybe she's new." Merlin shook his head. Nobody new would know the castle as well as she did.

"I don't think so Da-" Merlin's sentence was cut off as the linens- which had been wobbling very badly- finally decided to topple over. Instinctively, Merlin's eyes flashed, causing time to slow.

With an ease that surprised him, Merlin caught the laundry before it hit the floor. Time resumed to its normal pace. Merlin straightened his knees and looked at the laundry, which to his delight was still perfectly folded. Danen was looking at him in surprise. "Nice catch." Danen said smiling. With his hands now free of laundry, Danen easily found the right key, and opened the door. Danen, with Merlin on his heel, walked into Lord Haymor's chambers.

They weren't as luxurious as Arthur's, instead of red curtains hanging from the four-posted bed there were green, and the furniture wasn't quite as elegant. Nevertheless, Lord Haymor's chambers screamed of wealth and power.

Danen carefully placed the clothes in Haymor's dresser, and turned towards Merlin.

"Ok, so this is Lord Haymor's room," Danen said in a business like voice.

"Fernor and I have already agreed that we will alternate chores everyday, because doing the same things day after day gets boring. So one day you will take Lord Haymor his breakfast and the next day Fernor or I will. That way life will be a bit more interesting and it will also even out all the disgusting jobs. It will be nice having another servant about again, you have no idea how hard it is to take on all this work with just two people!"

Merlin hid a smirk as he thought of working for an irritable Prince who had never been able to keep a servant for longer then a month- until he came along, that is. But he couldn't tell Danen that, so instead he asked,

"So where is Fernor now? Oh, and Ollic said something about talking to you about sleeping arrangements…"

Danen shrugged, "Fernor was cleaning these floors last I new,"

He tapped one foot on the ground for emphasis. "But I have no idea where he is now." The door opened, and as if by magic, a man Merlin guessed was Fernor entered the room. He had straight, long brown hair that went a little past his shoulders, and was of a medium build.

Even though he was in his early thirties, he had lines on his face that came from too much frowning and though his facial expression was pleasant, his eyes were sad and bitter. Nevertheless, Merlin liked him instantly, and grinned at him as he walked into the room. "Hi," Merlin said amiably, "I'm Emrys, Lord Haymor's new servant."

Fernor nodded and smiled.

"Yes, Danen told me about you. Now I am sure you already know my name but I will tell you anyway that it is Fernor, and I am Lord Haymor's senior servant. So as it is custom here, you will do as I say and follow my orders until My Lord says otherwise. Do you understand?"

Merlin's eyebrows rose in surprise at the man's abrupt demeanor, but nodded his head with enthusiasm,

"Yes I do." Merlin said with the smile he was famous for. Fernor nodded in approval, "Good," he said, "Now, I have finished all my tasked for today and it is getting late, so how about we all head down to the tavern and get something to eat?" Merlin looked up at him in alarm.

"The tavern?"

…

Merlin lay on the bed that was now his, looking up at the ceiling.

It was late and he was in the servant chambers alone, so he was taking the time to settle in, gather his thoughts.

The room was not very large, but it held three beds - each one on a different wall –, with a dresser next to each one. The room also held a desk with writing utensils and paper, and to Merlin's surprise, even had a bookcase.

Fernor and Danen had left and gone to the tavern about an hour ago, and Merlin knew they wouldn't be back until later. They had asked Merlin to come with them, but Merlin declined under the excuse that he was tired, which thankfully was true.

He didn't think that anybody at the tavern knew that he had been with Arthur, but he wasn't sure and didn't want to take any unnecessary chances.

His thoughts wandered to back home at Camelot, to Gwen and then to Gaius, wondering how they were doing, if they missed him.

Then he thought of Arthur, hunted in the woods with just Sir Kay and Sir Allen to protect him. Worry gnawed at Merlin's stomach like a leech causing him to close his eyes. Finally, when he could bare it no longer, Merlin got up and went to the water basin that held his dirty wash water from earlier that evening.

He picked it up and sat down on the floor with the basin resting on his lap. Right before he had left Camelot, he had been practicing a scrying spell, which would allow you to see whoever you wanted to in a contained area of water.

To his frustration, he had not yet mastered the spell, but Gaius had consoled him by saying that scrying was an _extremely_ difficult art to master, and that it took most sorcerers years to even be able to see clear images in the water.

Fortunately, Merlin was not an average sorcerer. His eyes flashed as he incanted the spell. The water turned black and shifted, swirling around in the basin. Then a scene slowly formed in the water. Merlin sighed in relief as he watched, like looking out from a window far above.

_An exhausted Sir Kay was sitting with his back against a tree, pulling food from the pack he always kept with him. _

_Arthur was lying behind a large bush, unconscious, but very much alive, with Sir Allen slowing drizzling a mixture of water and a sleeping potion of Gaius's into his mouth. Arthur had a bandaged knee, and arm, but besides that he appeared to be unharmed._ Merlin watched the scene until he was satisfied Arthur was in no danger and was alright, then ended the spell.

The water in the basin cleared. Merlin smiled to himself and stood up with a sigh, feeling much better. After placing the bowl back on the dresser, Merlin walked over to the desk and sat down.

He was going to write Arthur a letter to tell him he was okay, because whether Arthur would admit it or not Merlin knew he would be worried about him, and would probably try to come after him when he woke up.

Hopefully that wouldn't happen until he arrived at Camelot, and Merlin was determined that he would have a letter waiting for him. Merlin laid out the paper and dipped the quill pen into some ink and wrote:

**Arthur,**

**I am writing this letter simply to let you know that I am very much alive, and better yet, working as a servant in Cenred's castle. The arrow wound in my shoulder isn't deep and Ollic the physician says I will make a quick recovery. I'm surprised myself at how well I am feeling.**

**I am currently working under Lord Haymor, a distant but kind man. Nobody here has any idea who I am but I must have 'servant' written on my forehead or something! How else could I become a servant…Again. **

**But I'm not complaining, they are giving me a place to live and better wages then I ever received in Camelot. (**Merlin drew a smiley face next to that sentence)

**I have not forgotten the mission though, and will continue to ask around. What better place then in the castle itself?** **When I have found out what Cenred is planning I will write to you, and then, come home to Camelot. **

**Tell Gaius and Gwen not to worry and that I miss them. **

**I hope to see you soon prat.**

**-Merlin**

**P.S. Don't come back here to 'retrieve' me. If you can't wash your own royal socks **

**or get yourself dressed for a short period of time then you can have a different **

**servant help you out until I get back, but don't come back here. It is too **

**dangerous.**

Merlin grinned when he finished writing the letter. It would do just fine.

With skillful hands he folded it, addressing it to Arthur.

Merlin sealed it closed and yawned. It had been a long day.

With a quick incantation and a flash of his eyes, the letter disappeared. He had sent it to Gaius's chambers, he would know what to do with it. The raven headed boy stood up from the desk's chair, blew the candle out, and sunk gladly into the warm depths of his bed.

…

Later that night, just as Merlin was about to fall asleep, the door creaked open and Fernor and Danen walked half drunk into the room, and without a word unceremoniously fell into their beds and went to sleep.

**Authors Note: I want to thank everyone that has reviewed, I really does mean a lot to us. ****So special thanks to… Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling down the Stairs, Ruby 890, Eclipseoftheheart17, and Wisegirl24256. I know that I have already thanked some of you but a second time doesn't hurt anybody…right? **

**Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: YaY! Today I have finally bought Merlin! * laughs evilly***

**Ok, ok, maybe not, well not at all, but hey, we can still dream… right?**

**Author's note: Hi Everyone! Well here is the next chapter, a shorty to make up for the longggness of the last one. :D Real quick question… does anybody else have problems with placing your characters into extremely difficult situations before you know how to get them out of it? Or am I…ooops, are **_**we**_** just like awkward that way? Probably.**

**Well anyway Cheers and enjoy!**

**Oh, and don't forget to have an amazing day!**

Merlin happily surveyed the pristine floor in Lord Haymor's chambers. Of course, the floor had been pristine _before _he had even started to clean it, but, it's the thought that counts, right?

This job was a breeze. Working with two other servants obviously lightened the load, but not having a demanding prince ordering him about just for the fun of it most certainly helped.

Merlin grinned. Now all he had to do was wash the floors in the corridor outside Lord Haymor's chambers, and he would be done. Done, when the day had barely started! He grabbed the wash bucket, and headed for the courtyard pump with a spring in his step.

…

Upon reaching the courtyard Merlin slowed.

There were soldiers everywhere! They were by the courtyard gate, the castles entrance, patrolling the castle wall, and most importantly to Merlin, they were by the pump. Inconspicuously, with his head down, Merlin made his way across the courtyard. He doubted anyone would recognize him, but he didn't want to take any risks.

He walked between two wagons, and around another. '_What's with all the wagons' _Merlin thought in confusion.

"You there! Halt!"

Merlin froze. The voice had come from behind him.

"Turn around" the voice said roughly.

Merlin turned slowly, until he was facing a guard. The man was of a large build, and had a beard.

"Yes sir?" Merlin asked, his voice squeaking.

"The courtyard is off limits. No one is to enter, unless they have specific orders. Which I doubt _you_ have." The guard sneered.

"Why not?' Merlin asked without thinking.

"That, is strictly confidential!"

"Well, _sir_, I _am_ Strictly under orders, to finish scrubbing the floors, so may I please pass to get to the pump?."

The guard laughed, unpleasantly.

"I don't think so, _boy_." The guard jerked his head back towards the castle. " Now, go."

"But-" Merlin started.

"Go." The guard said coldly.

Merlin hesitated, not so much because he wanted to get to the water pump, but because he knew something weird was going on, and he suspected that it had something to do with those wagons. Nevertheless with a shrug of his shoulders, Merlin turned and started to head back towards the castle. He had walked no more then three steps when he decided to probe just a little bit deeper.

"So what's in those wagons anyway?" Merlin asked curiously, while turning around.

The guard glared at him angrily, and just when Merlin feared that he was about to get his head bashed in he heard a voice call out to him from his right.

"Emrys!" Danen came running up, smiling. Merlin turned to him, relieved.

"Ah, you had a run in with Blonti, he always takes his anger out on servants like us." Danen whispered. He then turned around and smiled, genially at the guard. "Hey Blonti, come on, let Emrys pass, it's just to the pump." The guard stared at Danen, then shrugged, motioning for Merlin to pass. With a smile at Danen, and with as polite a nod as he could manage to the guard, Merlin walked to the pump without further incident.

….

"So uhh Danen?" Merlin asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Danen gave him a quizzical look,

"Those wagons… what's in them?"

Danen shifted slightly and raised his eyebrows. They were back in the castle, and Merlin had pulled Danen aside, after saying that he needed to talk to him.

"Oh those old things? Danen asked, waving his hand in a flippant gesture, obviously trying to convince Merlin that this conversation was pointless. It almost worked. Almost. "Yeah," Merlin said, cocking his head slightly, "those old things."

"Uh, they belong to a bunch a traders that have come to town, I don't know what's in them." Danen said with a weak smile and a shrug. Merlin winced. Danen was a worse liar then he was.

"Danen-" Merlin said uncomfortably.

"Yeah?"

Merlin looked him right in the eye.

"Please tell me." He asked quietly.

Danen looked away, and shifted uncomfortably. He was thinking hard. Finally, he turned back Merlin.

"Look," He said uneasily, "really we shouldn't be talking about it, because you are not from around here. You're a Mercian."

Merlin waited, still looking him in the eye.

Danen sighed, resigned. "I really don't know what's in them, but," he said just as Merlin was about to protest, "I think I know what there for."

"And?" Merlin asked excitedly, already expecting the answer.

"Now this is just a rumor mind you, I don't know for sure…"

"Yes?" Merlin asked hopefully.

"And this could just be a lie that some bored noble made up because they wanted attention. They _do_ do that you know. All the-"

"Danen!" Merlin said with a laugh. "What is it?"

Danen took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

"They are for the army," He said with his eyes still closed. "That King Cenred is raising for war."

Merlin lowered his head and sighed. He had expected as much.

"And who," Merlin asked quietly, "is Cendred planning to attack?"

Danen shrugged. "I don't know, no one does. Cendred is keeping it so quiet _I_ wouldn't even know that we were going to war if I hadn't heard Lord Haymor whispering about it with his friend the pompous captain."

Merlin tried to smile at Danen, but his worry must have shown through because Danen slapped him on the back.

"Don't worry," Danen said optimistically, "Cendred has no reason to attack Mercia, our countries aren't the best of friends, but we still have a mutual agreement for peace. If we get lucky," Danen continued, "Cendred might even attack that ghastly kingdom of Camelot! That would be a stroke of luck wouldn't it?"

Merlin swallowed a gulp and forced a laugh.

"Yeah, it sure would." He said with as much conviction as he could. Then with a shake of his head he said brightly, 'C'mon," he said, grabbing him on the arm, "I'm starving! Let's go see what we can beg from the kitchens."

Danen's eyebrows shot up at Merlins quick recovery, but with a shake of his head, he followed.

…..

His head throbbed. His leg burned white hot. He could feel his heart beating. Pain, all of his senses were overwhelmed by it. A voice. A voice so far away, so very familiar.

"Sire?"

His eyes felt like leaden weights, so heavy.

"Sire can you hear me?"

He felt himself drifting into unconsciousness, a black void that he could jump into to be free of the pain. All he had to do was jump.

"Arthur!"

Arthurs eyes snapped open. He was in his chambers, back home in Camelot. Gaius stood hovering over him, a concerned expression written on his face.

"Good afternoon Sire, you've been out for quiet some time, and I thought it might be good it you ate somethi- now wait, wait, don't sit up too quickly."

Arthur groggily brushed him aside, wincing. He had a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he was forgetting something… but what?

"Take it easy," he heard Gaius say kindly, "When your men brought you in you were in quite a state."

'_Brought me in_?' Arthur thought blearily.

"Here, sip this," Gaius said, holding out a bowl of soup.

With a nod of his head he quickly threw his legs over the side of the bed.

"No wait don't!" Gaius exclaimed.

He didn't hear Gaius until it was too late. A piercing pain shot up his leg from his knee. If he had been standing he would have collapsed. Arthur gritted his teeth. When the pain finally subsided, Arthur slowly looked down at his wounded knee.

Memories came back with a flash.

They had been trapped in the town, soldiers everywhere! Then in the woods, they were surrounded, outnumbered, an arrow had been flying straight at him! It should have hit him… why didn't it hit him…? Merlin!

With a strangled yell, Arthur threw himself onto his feet, ignoring the pain.

"Arthur! Arthur, stop! What are you doing? You are making it worse!" Gaius cried.

"Merlin! He's hurt or maybe dead! I have to- agh!"

Gaius had shoved him back onto his bed, with a no-nonsense look on his face.

"Merlin, is perfectly alright!" Gaius said loudly, trying to get Arthur's attention.

"No, no he's not! What are you talking about? I saw him get shot myself!" Arthur shouted half hysterical.

"No, he's not, he's fine." Gaius said exasperatedly.

"How could you know Gaius? You didn't see how bad-"

"I know because he sent you a letter!" Gaius shouted.

Arthur froze.

"He sent you a letter." Gaius repeated, quietly this time.

"A… uhh he sent me," Arthur cleared his throat, "a letter?"

Gaius nodded, smiling. "It's on my desk, if you would like to read it?"

"That would be," he cleared his throat a second time, "nice."

Still smiling Gaius turned towards the door to leave, partly to get the letter, but mostly to let Arthur Pendragon regain his dignity.

….

Merlin crept out of the servants chambers as subtly as he could . Quietly, slowly, he shut the door. He heaved a sigh of relief when he could still hear his friends snoring inside. Keeping to the shadows, he started for the courtyard.

Danen had said that whatever was in those wagons were for King Cendred's Army, so if for some reason they mysteriously disappeared… wouldn't that hinder the army? At least for a little while?

Well, that's what Merlin hoped as he quietly turned a corner, and froze.

Footsteps loudly emanated from the corridor ahead, so instinctively he ran to a conveniently close doorway to his right. It was locked. Wordlessly he tried another. It wouldn't budge. He ran across the corridor and tried yet another. Stuck. The footsteps were close now, too close. In desperation, Merlin's eyes flashed, and the door swung open. Merlin dove inside and shut the door just as the footsteps rounded the corner.

Merlin sighed vociferously in relief, resting his forehead on the door. That had been a bit too close.

"Look I don't who you are, but I just thought that I should let you know that I _can_ see you."

Merlin's sigh turned into a cough. He knew that voice, that was the voice of Mini Arthur. Of all the chambers he could have walked into, why his?

In a panic Merlin flung open the door and ran for all he was worth.

…

By the time Merlin got to the courtyard he was completely on edge. One thing he could give this castle was that it most certainly kept him on his toes. He had ducked behind the door that led to the courtyard, but he needed to get closer. He could hear the guards patrolling behind him. They where laughing boisterously and sounded half drunk.

Peering into the courtyard, he could see a medium sized crate about ten feet away, it was pushed close enough to the wall to be in the shadows, and at the right angle that Merlin could hide behind it and not be seen. Perfect. Ducking low he quickly scuttled to the crate, diving behind it. If only he had looked back.

There were about forty wagons in all, each one having a large canvas slung over them.

The three men who where on guard duty that night were camped out in the center of all forty of them.

That was a problem. '_I need a way to distract them_.' Merlin thought franticly. He looked around for a pebble or something, but there were none in sight.

With a sigh Merlin pulled off one of his shoes and threw it at the gate, and then he quickly ducked back behind the crate. It worked. The guards quietly did the indiscernible hand motions that Merlin had never quite gotten. They split up and started cornering Merlin's shoe.

Merlin waited for them to reach the gate so they would be far enough away. The guards realized that they had been fooled just a moment too late, for Merlin had already started murmuring under his breath. With a bright flash of his eyes, and a wave of his hand, the wagons exploded into flames.

The guards yelled and stepped back away from the burning flames.

Merlin's eyes glowed brighter, and the blazing inferno got higher. A couple of seconds later Merlin leaned back against the courtyard wall, exhausted. The guards were going berserk and Merlin knew that he had to move or he was going to be discovered. With his back to the wall, he quickly made his way back to the servant's entrance he had come from.

Safely in the corridor, he sat with his back to the wall. He was tired. Merlin glanced at his feet.

Only one shoe… that was going to be a problem. He wearily leaned his head back and closed his eyes. That had been close.

"Emrys, what have you done?"

So much for closing his eyes.

**Author's note: Ooooo Cliffy! We really don't try to be evil… well at least not all the time but it's just too fun!**

**Once again Thank you sooo Much for Reviewing, I love you all! So special thanks to… NotquiteBezerk *Throws coconut*, Ebonyice, 1, Falling down the Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Catwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, and Whirlwind421! *gasp and fall over***

**Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nope nope, still don't own Merlin. *sniffles*

**Authors note: Hello everyone! Ok, ok, ok I know! Seriously long chapter! I can't help it! I've tried, really I have…but *lowers head shamefully- but accidently knocks it against the computer monitor* owww! **

**Alright sorry, another long night! There must be something mentally wrong with me, for my writing itch to only turn on at night!**

**Well Enjoy!**

Chapter 5

"Emrys, what have you done?"

Merlin jumped up from the floor and spun around to face his accuser.

Standing before him was a very angry Fernor. Well 'angry' doesn't quite cut it. He was livid.

"I-uh- I don't know what you're talking about." Merlin stuttered, his mind racing.

"Emrys! Don't play games with me!" Fernor said heatedly, advancing upon him, "I saw what you did!"

Merlin quickly stepped back. The mood Fernor was in there was no telling what he would do.

"Look," Merlin said quickly, flinging his arms into the air in a reasonable gesture, "I can explain!"

Fernor lunged and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him into the wall.

"Then you had better do that, and fast." Fernor hissed.

"I-ag-wa-" Merlin motioned towards his throat in a meaningful way. The grip on his throat loosened, but still hurt.

"I was, out walking," Merlin attempted to clear his throat, "because I couldn't sleep. Then some random person tackled me from behind and stole my left shoe! I mean can you really believe the nerv-"

The grip on his throat tightened until Merlin couldn't breathe and was gasping for air. Fernor leaned in close.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or what you want, but," Fernor lowered his voice and squeezed harder, "don't play games with me."

Fernor abruptly released him, and Merlin fell to the floor, gasping. Fernor stood over him, arms crossed, waiting for the fit to subside. When it looked as if Merlin could talk Fernor spoke, calmly, but with a cold edge.

"Now Emrys, I know what you did. I saw you do it. You destroyed our army's food supply with magic. Now, I am going to ask you one question, and you are _going _to give me an honest answer." Fernor stared hard at him, then threw open his arms with a fake smile, "_Why?_"

Merlin shifted uncomfortably on the ground, looking up into Fernor's hard face.

"Because I…Because," Merlin looked at the floor, then sighed, and with a shake of his head, stood up.

"Because," Merlin said, stronger this time, "I am trying to stop a war. Your army is about to go to war with one of your neighboring kingdoms, and I am doing everything within my power to prevent that."

"Cendred has no quarrel with Mercia, so why should you even _care_?"

"I care because-" Merlin stopped, uncomfortable. What could he say?

"It's just," Merlin fidgeted, "I don't like wars." He finished lamely.

Fernor stood staring at him, silent. The silence lengthened, until it became awkward. Merlin shifted his weight.

"So," Merlin asked warily, "What are you going to do?"

The bitter laugh broke the silence with an eerie crack.

"What am I going to do?" Fernor's laughter continued, "what _can_ I do? I saw you commit treason against the King! If I turn you in, I will be executed too for not stopping you! No, I like my head where it is."

Merlin stared, not sure he entirely understood.

"So you are going to let me go?" Merlin asked slightly dumbfounded, hardly believing his good fortune.

Fernor glared at him with what Merlin could only pin as hate. Merlin involuntarily tried to take a step back, but hit the wall.

Just when Merlin thought Fernor was going to attack him, Fernor abruptly turned around, and walked briskly back towards their chambers.

Merlin stared after him until he was out of sight. When he could no longer hear his footsteps and he was sure he was gone, Merlin shakily dropped to the floor. He couldn't stay there long, the sun would be rising soon and he really couldn't let anyone see him in his current state. He was tired. That last conversation with Fernor had left him physically and emotionally drained. He really did need to get up… just not yet. Exhausted, Merlin leaned his head back against the wall.

But he did not close his eyes.

…

Morgana gracefully closed the door to her chambers after thanking Gwen for her assistance.

She glided over to her comfortable wooden chair, and sat while pulling out an elegantly made mirror. She brought it up to her face and studied her reflection. What she saw surprised her, even after a year of seeing it every day. It was still her face, as beautiful or maybe even more so then ever. No, it wasn't what was on the outside of her face, it was what was hidden, what you had to look so very closely to find. A face that used to be so full of love and joy, now hard, growing cold. That is what surprised her. How had this happened?

Morgana sighed, then briskly tried to shake off an uncomfortable feeling growing in her chest, a feeling that she did not want to think about.

She turned back to the mirror. Staring deep into its silver surface, she murmured an incantation under her breath, and her eyes flashed gold, reflecting back at her through the mirror.

The mirror grew foggy, a face beginning to form in its silver depths. The mirror cleared and the beautiful face of her stepsister stared back.

"Ah, Sister you got my message."

"Morgause!" Morgana couldn't help but to smile. The sight of her passionate sister always warmed her to her toes. Realizing Morgause was still waiting for an answer, Morgana continued.

"Yes, I did." Morgana smiled at the bracelet Morgause had given her, "I stole Uther's signet ring, wrote the letter, and gave it back to him all in one night!"

Morgause smiled slightly at Morgana's enthusiasm.

"You have done well Morgana."

Morgana's heart warmed slightly with the praise.

"Do you have the letter with you?" Morgause continued.

"Yes," Morgana stood, and quickly walked toward her nightstand.

She opened the small drawer, and emptied it of its contents: a small silver brush, an amphora of perfume, various pieces of jewelry and a small wooden statue of a horse Arthur had made for her when they were little. She had teased him mercilessly when he had given it to her, so he had put on a careless bravado, saying that the only reason he had made it for her was because she wasn't allowed to ride a _real_ horse.

He didn't know she had kept it.

When the drawer was empty she placed her hand into it and grabbed on to a small wooden handle in the back corner that was practically invisible. She pulled hard, and the false bottom came out revealing a hidden opening beneath it.

A letter marked with the King's seal rested inside.

She closed her eyes and incanted a quick spell. When she opened them, the letter was gone.

She hastily walked back to the chair and picked up the mirror.

"It's done." Morgana said proudly. She need not have. For already she could see the letter begin to materialize right into Morgause's outstretched hand.

Morgause smiled triumphantly.

"Thank you sister," Morgause said sincerely, "This will help grea-"

A knocking on Morgana's door interrupted Morgause. Morgana hastily flipped the mirror over and threw the jewelry, perfume, brush, and most importantly, the wooden horse back into the drawer.

Putting herself together she walked to the door and opened it with as much grace and poise as she could manage.

Arthur stood uncomfortably in the hallway, obviously concerned about something.

"Arthur," Morgana smiled, not sure whether she was happy or annoyed at this unexpected visit.

"Please, come in."

Arthur nodded and limped into the room. Morgana noticed the bandage wrapped around his knee and wondered why Gaius had let him out of bed. Morgana shut the door behind him. Arthur stood with his hands behind his back surveying the room. Morgana waited for him to say something, but he did not, and the silence grew unbearable.

Irritated Morgana finally asked curtly, "Well?"

Arthur turned towards her seeming to have realized what he wanted to say.

"I had Sir Kay and Sir Allen locked up this afternoon," Arthur said plainly.

Morgana raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Really?" she asked cocking her head slightly, "Under what charges?"

Arthur shifted his weight and leaned slightly on Morgana's table for support. No, he most certainly should not be out of bed.

"Under the charges of disobeying a direct order from their prince." Arthur said automatically.

Both of Morgana's eyebrows climbed.

"From what I have heard they saved your life." She said amusedly.

"They had no right to." Arthur said tightly.

Unconcerned Morgana shrugged.

"They are your Knights Arthur, they had every right"

"But they left Merlin to die!"

"If you're going to get all angry at me I am going to have to ask you to leave!" Morgana shot back.

"No, no wait," Arthur sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, "I'm sorry. It's not you. It's just…."

Morgana stared at him, surprised. He had come to her for advice! He wasn't going to admit it, but he had. She didn't know why that surprised her, a couple of years ago Arthur would practically be in her room everyday ranting about his responsibilities, duties, but more then anything, the remoteness of his father. _Their_ father, she thought in disgust. However, things had changed since then and now, a lot of things.

Yet seeing him so upset brought a part of the old Morgana back, a very little bit, but at least it was there. Acting upon a feeling she had forgotten existed, Morgana moved until she was standing directly in front of Arthur, who was staring at the ground.

"Arthur," Morgana said quietly. He didn't move.

"Arthur," She said again, loudly this time. He shifted his gaze towards his hands.

Morgana sighed, and daintily shoved herself onto the table next to him.

"What's wrong?" Morgana asked her voice low.

Arthur slowly lifted his head until their eyes met.

"I'm worried about Merlin," Arthur said miserably. Morgana's fingernails bit into the table at the sound of her enemies' name. '_Of course he would be worried about_ him' Morgana thought bitterly. Arthur did not seem to notice the change in Morgana's demeanor.

"He's still in danger," Arthur went on, "and I can't do anything about it!"

Morgana rolled her eyes and was about to change the subject but Arthur kept going.

"And I don't know what to do with Sir Allen and Sir Kay, I really don't, they were some of the most honorable men I knew, but then they practically killed Merlin!"

Morgana opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur had opened up, and like a flood his problems and worries started to come out.

"And I am tired of being lied to! Everywhere I look somebody I trust is lying to my face! A couple days ago I asked Gaius how Merlin's letter could have possibly gotten here so fast, because as far as I can tell, even if Merlin sent the letter the day after he got shot, it still wouldn't have arrived at Camelot until the day _after_ I woke up. When I asked Gaius, he had said simply that the messenger was a close friend of Merlins, and so he rode through the night for him. But Merlin grew up in Ealdor and never left, so how could he have a friend so far away? Much less a close one."

Arthur massaged his neck with his hand and sighed.

"I think he is hiding something from me Morgana," Arthur said seriously.

"Who? Gaius?" Morgana asked, hiding a yawn. She was tired, and as interesting as this conversation was, she was beginning to wish Arthur would leave.

"No, Merlin," Arthur said, as if it should be obvious, "Of course I cannot imagine what _Merlin_ would have to hide."

Surprised Morgana lifted an eyebrow. She could use this to her advantage.

"You can't trust him Arthur," Morgana said wickedly, "He's sneaky."

Arthur laughed, but stopped when he saw her face. She was serious. Arthur cleared his throat.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Yes, Merlin," Morgana said humorlessly, "You don't know him Arthur. You have no idea what he has done!"

Arthur gave her a perplexed look.

"What are you talking about Morgana?"

Morgana opened her mouth to answer but stopped. Telling Arthur that Merlin had poisoned her would bring up a whole lot of uncomfortable questions.

She hurriedly thought of something else.

"He stole my dress!" Morgana said passionately.

"He what?" Arthur asked, feeling slightly relieved but not knowing why, "Oh yes, I remember, that purple one that he was carrying so awkwardly around the hall."

"I haven't seen it since!" Morgana said woefully.

Morgana glared as Arthur choked back a laugh, but he could not contain occasional outbursts.

Deciding it was best to change the subject, Arthur pushed himself off the table.

"It's late, I had better go." Arthur said still smiling.

Morgana nodded and showed him to the door. When he was gone she returned to her chair and sat down.

"I am sorry," Morgana said, picking up the mirror, "I didn't mean to take so long."

Morgause had a thoughtful look on her face.

"You still care about him don't you?" Morgause asked softly.

"Who? Arthur?" Morgana laughed, "Certainly not."

Morgause smiled.

"I am glad," she said, then added, "Let's be sure to keep it that way."

Morgana was about to object but a look from Morgause silenced her.

"I heard the two of you together, I just don't want any remaining feelings for these people to get in the way of our plans."

"Of course they won't," Morgana said with a little laugh, "My loyalties lie with you Morgause, no one else."

Morgause inclined her head, satisfied.

"You are tired sister," Morgause observed, "I will leave you."

Morgana smiled, and nodded. "Good night sister."

"Goodnight. Now rest peacefully, knowing that you are one step closer to the destruction of Uther Pendragon."

With those final words, the mirror fogged up, then went blank.

….

Morgana closed the door behind him. Arthur leaned his back against it and sighed.

'_So_ _that is one_ more _person who is not being honest with_ me' Arthur thought miserably. He and Morgana just didn't seem to connect, not anymore. Something had changed. Come to think of it, Morgana had not been the same since she had escaped from Morgause. At first, Arthur had thought it was just a side effect of the pain she had endured for an entire year.

Now he wasn't so sure.

Arthurs thoughts strayed to Merlin, to him leaping in front of an arrow, an arrow that was not meant for him.

Arthur shook his head, trying to rid himself of the painful picture. Gaius was going to blow it if he found out he had snuck out of his chambers. He had better be getting back to them.

Arthur made to push himself wearily off the door, and return to his chambers, but froze.

"Now rest peacefully, knowing that you are one step closer to the destruction of Uther

Pendragon."

Arthur hurled himself from Morgana's door. He had not just heard that, he couldn't have. He backed up until he felt himself hit the adjacent wall. He was being ridiculous, he just hadn't heard right. Morgana was probably just talking to herself and he had misunderstood. He was overreacting.

_I could just walk back in and find out for myself_.' Arthur thought, trying to brush off a panic he would not acknowledge was there.

He walked back to the door and placed his hand on the door latch.

He didn't want to open it. He wasn't going to admit it, but he was scared of what he would find.

'_This is Morgana we are talking about… Morgana! I'm being ridiculous.'_ Arthur hand slipped from the latch. He couldn't do it. He slowly, painfully, walked back to his chambers, back to an upset Gaius, all the while berating himself for being an utter coward.

….

Despite Morgause's wishes, Morgana did not rest peacefully.

_Fire. Heat. Burning. People were running and screaming in terror. Yet worse, they were running and screaming away from_ her. _She heard herself incant a spell, and a ball of fire shot from her hand, exploding and killing dozens. She couldn't stop herself, part of her didn't even want to. She raised her hand to cast another spell, but a roaring from above stopped her. She felt herself look up. _

_The Great Dragon, wings tight to his body, dove straight towards her, a blazing inferno spurting from his jaws. She tried to move but could not. The dragon got closer and closer, the flames getting hotter and hotter. She knew she could not get to safety in time. She was going to die. _

Morgana's eyes flew open, as she sat up with a jolt. She felt herself breathing hard. Her hand instinctively flew to her bracelet. It was still there. The only reason she had nightmares with the bracelet on was when they were most certainly going to come true.

Morgana slowly curled up under her sheets, and began to sob.

….

Morgause eased off her quivering mount, and handed the reins to a nearby servant.

She had ridden through the night in her haste to get their letter to King Bayard.

She wearily walked up the steps to the castle, staring down those who gave her odd looks.

She had a mission, a purpose for coming to Mercia, and she would not be dissuaded by any amount of perplexed looks.

When she arrived at the top of the stairs she made to walk through the two, large double doors, but was stopped by the blue garbed guards standing there.

"What is your business here?" One of the guards asked, not unkindly.

Morgause lifted herself up to her full height, ignoring her weariness.

"I come from Cendred's Kingdom, I have a letter we have intercepted from King Uther of Camelot. I need to see your King at once." Morgause said commandingly.

The guard murmured something to his comrade, and the other guard quickly ran into the castle.

Morgause and the first guard waited in silence. Soon the man came back and motioned that Morgause could enter.

Morgause nodded and stepped through. She quickly walked down the corridor, to the great 15-foot high doors, leading to the throne room. Wordlessly, the guards stepped aside, and let her pass.

The Great Hall stretched before her, large, blue crested columns lining the way towards the throne. To her right, floor to ceiling windows stretched from one side of the room to the other, and to her left, beautifully embroidered tapestries hung elegantly from the walls.

Bayard himself sat on his throne at the far end, his regal face observing her.

Morgause strode gracefully towards the throne, stopping only a couple feet away.

"My Lord," Morgause said inclining her head, "I bring grave news from Cendred's Kingdom."

"Cendred's Kingdom," Bayard said slowly, standing up, "Why, I haven't heard from Cendred in months. How does he fare?" Bayard asked, motioning for to a servant, who brought him a goblet of wine.

"He fares well My Lord," Morgause said with a hint of a smile, then added, "For he is planning to go to war with the hateful Kingdom of Camelot."

"Camelot?" Bayard asked sharply, "Camelot is now our ally M'lady, if you have come thinking that you can ask for my aid in this venture of yours, I'm afraid that you are sadly mistaken."

Morgause shook her head slightly.

"I am afraid it is you who are mistaken My Lord," Morgause said respectfully, "Camelot is no friend of Mercia, I can assure you that."

Bayard frowned.

"How do you know of this?" Bayard asked disbelievingly, "Where is your proof?"

Morgause smiled, and reaching into a small pouch, she took out the letter Morgana had given her.

"This was intercepted from a messenger of Camelot, who was on his way to the Kingdom of Gwhite."

Bayard held out his hand, motioning for the letter.

Morgause handed it to him.

"The letter states, as you will read My Lord, that Camelot wishes to go to war against Mercia, apparently they have for awhile. Camelot was asking Lord Godwin for help."

Bayard frowned as he read the letter, and upon finishing he hastily flipped it over to examine the seal.

"It is genuine," He sighed, "Camelot has betrayed me."

"My Lord," Morgause acted offended, "Did you think we would lie to you?"

"It was not mistrust in you M'lady," Bayard said, his head lowered, "It was the faith I had in Camelot. I had thought that I was better judge of character then that."

Morgause waited. She knew what was coming.

Bayard raised his head.

"We cannot sit idle while Camelot is preparing for war against us," Bayard said, resigned, "We will aid you in your fight against Camelot M'lady. You may count on Mercia."

Morgause smiled triumphantly. This was all going so perfectly.

"Thank you, My Lord," she said feigning warmth, "Cendred thanks you."

Bayard nodded, distracted.

"You may go M'lady," Bayard said, with a wave of his hand.

Morgause inclined her head, and made to walk back towards the door, but turned back.

"My name is Morgause."

Then she was gone.

…

Fernor walked furiously down the hall, away from where he had left the half-choked sorcerer.

'_Emrys only thinks he is free_,' Fernor thought, trying to calm himself down, '_He won't know what hit him by the time I'm through with him!' _

Fernor loudly pushed the door to the shared servant's chambers open, and strode to the desk where he quickly lit a candle.

Danen groaned in his sleep, and flipped over.

He hated sorcerers! With everything in him he hated them. Since he could not tell Cendred about Emrys without being charged for treason, and since he could not strangle him himself without being charged with murder, Fernor decided that there was only one course of action he could take.

He would go to the one person who hated Sorcerers as much as he did, and tell him the sorcerer wishes to kill him. He had done it before.

Fernor dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to write a letter to Uther Pendragon, the King of Camelot.

**My Lord the King,**

**I write to you with disparaging news. I have recently come upon the knowledge of the existence of a very powerful sorcerer who wishes for nothing more then to destroy Camelot, and everyone in it. **

**You may ask yourself why I am warning you of this man, when I myself am in your enemy's territory. The answer to that question is very simple Your Majesty. I hate the very existence of sorcerers, and wish for them all to be destroyed. So I write to you, you who are like minded in this aspect, and has something to gain. **

**I urge you to act quickly in the elimination of this man, for in his heart lies only evil.**

**The sorcerer's name, is Emrys.**

Fernor quickly closed and sealed the letter. He would send it tomorrow.

**Authors note: Alright see? No cliffy this time! Told you we are not always evil!**

**Once again I would like to thank my reviewers. Yes, I know that I have done it like well… *thinks hard* a really big number of times! But I just like doing it.**

**So special thanks toooooo: Notquietbezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling down the stairs, Ruby 890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Catwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lillyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, Merlin Fan, and Nykskyblue! **

**Seriously thank you! Your reviews make us sooooo happy. When we get them we squeal, hop up and down, dance around the living room, and behave in all other ways like total idiots! Oh! Sorry, err did I say that out loud? *Laughs awkwardly* ooops.**

**Cheers!**

**TTTs **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: We do not own Merlin *falls asleep from boredom* BBC does.**

**Author's note: Hello everyone! Yes, here is the next long awaited chapter *Day dreams about crowds going wild* yes I know, we are that good! *gets kicked under the table by trusty accomplice* What? I didn't do anything!**

**Well here is the next chapter for all of you amazing readers. I seriously love you all!**

**Cheers!**

**Chapter 6**

"Emrys!" Fernor called maliciously, "Get over here and clean this up!"

Merlin glanced up from where he was scrubbing Lord Haymor's floors. The ground he had just finished cleaning was now covered with ash. Fernor was standing in the middle of it with a long suffering look on his face.

"Look," Fernor was saying, his voice dripping in condescension, "I know that where you come from, you probably aren't expected to pull your share like you are around here. Your family more then likely lives in the smutty part of town, where people are completely ignorant on how to do a proper days work. I understand that, I really do. But if you are going to work with us, you will have to learn to do your part."

Merlin sighed, grabbed the wash bucket, and wordlessly began to redo an hours worth of work.

Fernor watched him a moment longer, then went back to sweeping the fireplace.

Danen frowned from where he was changing Lord Haymor's bed sheets. The relationship between Fernor and Emrys had seemed to be strained over the past week, and on Fernor's part almost hostile. He didn't get it. He liked Emrys, though he had to admit, he was a bit guarded.

Danen jumped as he heard a crash.

The bucket Fernor had been piling the ash in had just tipped over.

"My apologies," Danen heard Fernor murmur to Emrys, though by the glint in his eyes Danen expected he wasn't apologetic at all.

Emrys look up locked eyes with Fernor, who was looking smug. Just when Danen was sure Emrys was going to speak, the door opened and a happy looking Lord Haymor strode into the room.

Fernor quickly went back to cleaning the fireplace, and Emrys lowered his eyes.

Lord Haymor raised his eyebrows, obviously sensing the tension in the room. He slowly looked from one servant to the other, trying to discern the problem. Nobody looked back. Puzzled, Haymor decided that it would be best not to get involved with his servants quarrels. If he did he knew it wouldn't end well.

Lord Haymor cleared his throat, and addressed Fernor.

"I am going to need my ceremonial garments mended before the banquet this week. Would you take them to the seamstress for me?"

Fernor nodded, and with an almost indiscernible glare at Merlin, he walked out of the room and shut the door.

The mood in the room seemed to lighten considerably with Fernor gone, and Lord Haymor smiled slightly.

"Emrys I am going to be having a guest for lunch this afternoon-" Lord Haymor stopped, bewildered, "Emrys, why on earth are you only wearing one shoe?"

Behind him, Merlin heard Danen choke back a laugh. Danen had asked him that same question days ago, but Merlin's flustered, hasty answer hadn't satisfied him in the least.

"I was, uh, out walking in the rain and my shoe got stuck in the mud." Merlin said, trying to act natural about it.

Lord Haymor looked amused.

"And you didn't go back for it because…?"

Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably on the floor. He _hated_ lying. Sighing inwardly, he tried to remember the lie he had told Danen.

"Well it was raining really hard and I couldn't see it, so I decided to come back in the morning, but when I did it was gone. A dog must have carried it off."

Lord Haymor raised an eyebrow, but questioned Merlin no more.

"Well, as I was saying," Lord Haymor said, "I am having a guest for lunch today, and I would like you to serve it, Emrys."

Merlin looked up at him, surprised. Danen had told him that Lord Haymor had almost died twice, from his food being poisoned. The fact that Haymor was letting him serve him was an amazing display of trust.

"Yes Sir!" Merlin said happily, grinning, then added, "Thank you."

Lord Haymor gave him a curious look, as if he couldn't quite figure him out. Then with a nod of his head, he walked out of his chambers and closed the door.

…..

Merlin balanced a large platter heaped with teetering cheese and fruit as he walked up the stairs.

The rest of the food was already in the room and he had been told that Lord Haymor's guest had already arrived. Now Merlin had been living in the castle for two weeks now, and it had taken him exactly that long to figure out the confusing stairways and twisting hallways, and every other 'way', but finally, he had mastered it.

So Merlin was feeling very proud of himself as he walked up to the door that led into Lord Haymor's chambers, and with a grin, sprang in and closed the door behind him.

He wished he hadn't

For at the head of the table sat Lord Haymor, and at the other end, with his back to him, was the last person in the world Merlin wanted to see. Mini Arthur.

Merlin dropped the platter.

Instinctively, his eyes flashed causing time slow, just a little bit, but enough for Merlin to be able to catch the platter before it hit the ground, albeit not gracefully.

"Do you need some help with that?" the amused voice of Mini Arthur asked, turning in his chair to face the disturbance.

'_I'm dead_,' Merlin thought, panic beginning to sink in.

Merlin and the captain's eyes locked. Mini Arthur's eyes widened in recognition, then in surprise. Merlin took a step back towards the door, his hand moving towards the latch, bracing himself to make a run for it.

"Well come on in," Lord Haymor said, slightly impatient, "What are you waiting for?"

Merlin's gaze shifted to Lord Haymor, who was staring at him oddly, then back to the Captain, who looked as if a puzzle had just been solved.

"Emrys," Haymor said exasperatedly, "Don't just stand there. You're making the Captain wait."

Not sure what else to do, Merlin threw a quick glance at Mini Arthur, who was already beginning to look amused, and hesitantly walked up to the table.

"Don't worry milord," Mini Arthur said smiling widely, "I am perfectly alright. If I were you I would worry about your servant here, he looks a bit flustered."

Merlin tossed the Captain a confused look. Why didn't he arrest him? Mini Arthur just raised his eyebrows at him, daring him to object.

Lord Haymor looked from one to the other, trying to read their expressions. Then with a slight smile replied, "He is new to this job, but he will figure it out soon enough."

Lord Haymor raised his hand, motioning for Merlin to fill his goblet with wine. Merlin hastened to obey.

"So," The captain asked, leaning casually back in his chair, "How is that you came upon this servant in the first place. I thought that you had decided to never get another one after what happened last time."

Merlin looked up in surprise, suddenly interested.

"His was a special case," Lord Haymor replied seriously, "We found him lying half dead in the woods after being attacked by bandits. He needed a place to stay."

Mini Arthur glanced at Merlin with a smirk. He had Merlin's life in his hands and he knew it.

"So, _Emrys_," Mini Arthur said now facing him, "How do you come to be in our humble little Kingdom? You don't seem to be from around here."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. This guy was _playing_ with him!

"I, uh, I hail from Mercia…sir." Merlin said disconcertedly, wishing that Mini Arthur would just arrest him and be done with it, but Mini had apparently decided that it would be more fun to make his life miserable first. Mini's next question just enhanced Merlin's suspicions.

"Is that so?" Mini Arthur asked, acting interested, "So why did you come here?"

Merlin glanced uncomfortably at Lord Haymor, who was watching with interest.

"My master and I were here as traders," Merlin said, debating whether he should make a run for it now or later. Either way he would probably be shot or stabbed before he reached the hallway. He was getting scared.

"Ah, traders," Mini Arthur said with a smile, "What kind of merchandise did you sell? You strike me as a pot selling sort of guy."

Merlin stared at him, not exactly sure what to say. The captain almost seemed to be _joking_ with him, but Merlin could not fathom why. If this had been Camelot, Merlin would have been march down to the dungeons a long time ago, not joked with.

Thankfully Merlin was saved having to answer by a knocking at the door.

Lord Haymor glanced up in surprise. "Enter," he called out.

A servant Merlin had never seen before peeked his head into the room.

"I am sorry My Lord," the servant said, "But King Cendred requests your presence in the throne room immediately."

"Alright," Lord Haymor sighed, "I will be there shortly."

The servant nodded and left.

"I am sorry," Haymor said to the Captain, "Cendred has been consulting me more then usual as of late. I think that we may have to reschedule our lunch together to some other time."

Mini Arthur smiled then waved his hand, "No need to worry about me, my friend. Now go, making the King wait never ends well."

Lord Haymor inclined his head, and with another apology hastily walked out of the room and closed the door.

Merlin awkwardly glanced at the Captain, who was staring out the window. Mini Arthur slowly turned his head towards Merlin, and smiled.

Suspecting what was going to happen next, Merlin slowly started backing up.

"Oh I just remembered!" Merlin exclaimed, "Lord Haymor had asked me to wash his garments before lunch! I had better be getting started…"

With that Merlin grabbed a stack of perfectly clean clothes and bolted out the door, the Captain leisurely following behind.

…..

Merlin sprinted down the hallway, not sure where he was going, but knowing that it must be better then staying in that room.

Its not that he didn't like Mini Arthur, on the contrary on normal circumstances they probably would have been friends, or at least close acquaintances. Nevertheless, this situation was not normal, and he wanted to stay as far away from the Captain as possible.

As Merlin rounded a corner he saw the boot sticking out in front of him just seconds too late.

Merlin went sprawling.

"What, do you not enjoy my company?" A voice above him asked, dripping with sarcasm.

Merlin looked up. The Captain was leaning against the wall, grinning down at him.

"And to think," Mini Arthur with a sad shake of his head, "That I practically just saved your life!"

Merlin looked at him, confused. He really couldn't figure this guy out. One day he was trying to kill him, the next he was being almost friendly, committing treason bynot having him arrested on sight.

Merlin made to stand up, and the Captain held out his hand. Merlin hesitated, not sure whether he should take it or not. Then with a grin he could hold back Merlin took it and stood up.

"So," Merlin asked awkwardly, then not sure exactly how to word his question, just asked it honestly "Why aren't you arresting me? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but…"

Mini Arthur gave him an unreadable look. Merlin fidgeted uneasily. '_Why can't I ever just keep my mouth shut' _Merlin thought, hoping that he hadn't just dug his own grave.

"I saw what you did," Mini Arthur said seriously, "You took an arrow for your prince. Even being your enemy I cannot deny that that was more then a little brave Emrys," He smirked, "Or if I remember correctly, Merlin."

Merlin smiled. That was the first time he had heard his name, his _real_ name, in weeks. Nevertheless, he didn't buy this guys story. Whether he was brave or not, he was still his enemy. Yet he didn't have time to press the matter, for Mini Arthur stuck out his hand.

"I'm Calvin," He said, then added with a smile, "but you can just call me Cal, everybody does."

Merlin shook it, the grin he was famous for spreading across his face. The name suited him.

"Thanks," he said smiling, "I suppose you can just call me Idiot, everyone else does."

Cal laughed.

"Oh!" He said, holding up one finger, "I believe this is yours."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out Merlin's missing shoe.

"In the future Merlin, if you're going to create a diversion," Cal said intelligently, "Use a pebble."

Merlin's eyes widened. Cal knew that he had destroyed his armies' food supply, and yet he was still letting him go. Yes, Cal most certainly was hiding something.

But as Merlin took the shoe he laughed, "I tried!" he exclaimed, "but there wasn't a single pebble in sight… Just shoes, my shoes."

Cal smirked, then glanced at the sun.

"It's getting late," he said surprised, "Already an hour past midday. I need to be off."

"Alright," Merlin said, then finally got up the nerve to ask, "Cal?"

Cal looked at him, then raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Why are you really letting me go?"

Cal glanced at the ground, then quickly looked back at Merlin.

"I have already told you." He said uncomfortably.

"Course you have." Merlin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Cal smirked, shook his head, and walked off.

…

Arthur walked towards the throne room. His father had summoned him, claiming that it was an emergency. Arthur's gait slowed as he neared some steps. In the two weeks since he had been home, his knee had healed tremendously, even Gaius had admitted it. He had even been able to resume some of his regular responsibilities. Nevertheless, his knee still hurt.

Upon arriving at the throne room, the two guards stepped aside, and Arthur strode in.

"You summoned me father?" Arthur asked formally.

Uther glanced up from a letter he was currently reading.

"Ah, yes, Arthur," Uther said pleased, "I have just received a letter from a man in Cendred's Kingdom. He has informed me of the existence of a powerful sorcerer who goes by the name of Emrys. This sorcerer's only ambition in life is to destroy Camelot and everyone in it."

Arthur frowned, then asked, "In Cendred's Kingdom? Is that enough proof to confirm our suspicions of Cendred's intent to attack us?"

Uther sighed, "I do not know son. If a war with Cendred is inevitable then it would be in our best interest to attack first. Nevertheless, attacking him first, then realizing that he never intended to attack us at all, would be a tragedy."

Arthur looked out the window. He was right.

"What do you wish of me Father?" Arthur asked, already expecting to receive the answer they both knew was the only option available.

"I need you to ride out, travel to Cendred's Kingdom and kill this sorcerer before he has the chance to even get near Camelot. You will be taking ten knights with you, the others must stay to guard the city should Cendred attack."

Arthur nodded.

"Of course Father," Then added, "May I choose the knights I will be riding with?"

Uther almost smiled. "No," he said thoughtfully, "I have already chosen, two of which will be Sir Allen and Sir Kay."

"Father!" Arthur said offended, "They almost killed-"

Uther raised his hand, silencing his angry son.

"They are trustworthy Arthur. Their responsibility is to you, not to Marlin."

"Merlin," Arthur corrected, annoyed.

Uther waved his hand dismissing the subject.

"They are riding out with you Arthur, because I want them to." Uther said, then softened, "If it were not completely urgent I would never even consider sending you unless your knee was entirely healed, but under the circumstances I am afraid that I have no choice."

Arthur's heart warmed slightly at Uther's concern.

"Don't worry Father, we can handle the sorcerer."

Little did he know how wrong he was.

**Author's note: Hi again! *says into microphone* yep it is that time folks! It's the moment you've alllll been waiting for! It's now time to thank my amazing reviewers! *waits for applauds to subside* So here they are….Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling down the stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, wisegirl24256, catwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, Merlin Fan, Nykskyblue, rawr52, ariacle, and Coby! *Day dreams about thousands of cheering readers* **

***Trusty accomplice walks up from behind and clears throat* uuhh what are you doing? **

**Thanks again! Cheers!**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Nope nope, still don't own Merlin *sniffles*

**Authors Note: Hi again! Sorry for the wait on this chapter, it took a whole lot longer to write then we had anticipated… ooops. But I am rather happy about how this one turned out… ok, ok ok I know, I do sometimes have bad taste, welll actually I usually have bad taste, but at least it was fun to write. Well Enjoy!**

**Cheers! **

Chapter 7

Arthur was thrown face first into the tree then hit the hard ground below. He saw red. He heard his men fighting for their lives close by. He had to help them! Arthur tried to stand, but a wave of energy flung him back into the tree, but this time he didn't fall back down. He was held, suspended by his throat, gasping for breath.

He heard the sorcerer laughing below.

"So this is it?" He heard the cloaked sorcerer taunt, "This is the mighty prince of Camelot! I had expected so much more."

Abruptly the pressure around his throat went away, and he fell to the ground yards below. Pain shot through his body, and the old wound in his knee throbbed.

"Protect the princ-!" A knight's voice called out, but was cut short by a swift death.

"Why are you doing this!" Arthur cried out, sickened, "Have you no honor?"

The black cloaked sorcerer laughed, and Arthur felt the pressure return to his throat. He knew he was dying.

…**..**

**24 hours earlier **

Morgana's eyes flashed gold. The mirror in her hand grew white with fog. When it had cleared, Morgana was able to see a forest of elms, and beyond that the night sky. It was beautiful. Yet Morgana wasn't here for beauty. She had a message for Morgause.

"Morgause," Morgana said as loudly as she dared, not wanting to be overheard from outside her chambers.

Nothing happened. Morgana frowned.

"Morgause," she said again, slightly louder this time. A fire could be heard crackling in the background.

"This is important," she continued on, "I have information that could help our plans greatly!"

The form of her sister stepped into view, towering above the mirror. Morgause smiled, bent down, and picked up the mirror, which had been resting on a log.

"Hello Morgana," Morgause said softly, "What is this that you wish to tell me?"

Morgana smiled slightly at her sister. Their short moments together meant a lot to her.

"It's Arthur," Morgana said seriously, "He and ten other knights are riding out to Cendred's Kingdom to slay a sorcerer, who is said to be very powerful, and hates Uther with everything in him."

Morgause looked thoughtful.

"To Cendred's Kingdom you say?" Morgause said pensively, "Did you get the sorcerer's name?"

Morgana nodded proudly.

"Uther said his name is Emrys."

Morgause's eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath.

"Emrys!" Morgause said astonished, "Are you sure Morgana?"

Morgana nodded slightly, confused.

"Yes," Morgana said unquestionably, "I am sure. Why? Who is this Emrys?"

Morgause looked shocked. She slowly lifted her hand toward her mouth

"The greatest sorcerer who will ever walk the earth!" Morgause said slightly breathless, "To think that he hates Uther, and is in Cendred's kingdom no less…"

Morgause trailed off, lost in thought. Abruptly, Morgause shook her head, then raised herself to her full height.

"We must never let Arthur get to him," Morgause said determinedly, "I cannot risk him succeeding in his task and killing a soon to be ally."

Morgana cocked her head, confused.

"How can we stop him?" she asked frowning, "He has already left Camelot, and even if was still here, he is very stubborn."

Morgause looked at her sympathetically.

"Oh Morgana," Morgause said with a slight smile and a shake of her head, "You must learn to see the world differently, a world that you are now very much in control of. You must learn that the will of an average person matters very little in the course of life. _We_ change events Morgana. _We_ make them happen, the way we _want_ them to. Not some arrogant prince."

Morgana sighed. They had had this conversation before.

"Yes Morgause, I understand that, but-"

Morgause cut her off with a slight wave of her hand. Morgana looked away, frustrated. When she turned back to the mirror Morgause looked her in the eye.

"We must kill him Morgana," Morgause said quietly, "Killing Arthur is the only way."

Morgana froze. Kill him? Arthur? Yes, their relationship had always been slightly awkward and at times rude, but…

Morgana stared out the window at the night sky, seeking respite from her raging emotions in its calm depths.

"I have told you before Morgana," Morgause said gravely, "You must get rid of whatever feelings you have left for these people. No good will come of them."

Morgana closed her eyes. She had to decide now. Unwillingly, memories of their childhood together came unbidden to her mind. She saw them laughing together in a hallway, and bickering while eating breakfast. She saw Arthur rushing to her aid after she had fallen from her horse and sprained her ankle. She saw him running away to her chambers, day after day, ranting about his problems. She saw him giving her the small wooden horse.

Could she really kill him? Could she really kill Arthur Pendragon?

Morgana lowered her head and sighed. She had no choice.

"No feelings are left Morgause," Morgana said heavily, feeling as if a part of her was dying, "You are right, we must kill Arthur."

Morgause smiled.

"You have grown wise sister," Morgause said triumphantly, "You will not regret your decision. I can assure you of that."

Morgana nodded, still staring out the window. With a slight shake of her head to rid herself of uncomfortable emotions, Morgana turned back to Morgause and forced a smile.

"How do you plan on killing him?" Morgana asked determinedly.

Morgause smiled.

"I have a man," Morgause said with a cock of her head, "He is very powerful and is trustworthy to do as I ask. He shares the dream you and I have, of Uther dead and magic restored. He will do well."

"That's, good," Morgana said with a shaky sigh, then added, "It is late sister, I must be getting to bed before people start to wonder."

Morgause inclined her head.

"Of course sister," she said, solemnly, "Rest peacefully."

"Good night Morgause," Morgana said, distractedly.

When the mirror had stilled, Morgana rose from her chair, and went to stand by the window.

She did not sleep that night. She could not shake off the feeling that she had lost something important, as if something had died.

A part of her had. For whether she knew it or not, whatever was left of Morgana, the old Morgana, had withered, and after tonight, had died.

….

Arthur laid out his bedroll and collapsed into it in as princely a manner he could manage. The ground felt hard and stony though the thin layer, but Arthur didn't mind. He had slept on ground like this thousands of times.

He was tired. They had left Camelot only that afternoon, but Arthur had pushed them through most of the night in his haste to get to Cendred's kingdom. Only a couple hours remained until dawn.

The only reason they were stopping now was because Arthur had finally conceded that they could not kill a powerful sorcerer if he didn't let them sleep.

As he looked at the night sky his mind drifted to the uncomfortable matter of Morgana. After he had overheard her in her chambers he had trailed her endlessly, looking for suspicious behavior and hoping with everything he had that he didn't find it.

Yet he did, a harsh word to a servant here, a spiteful comment to a commoner there. In the beginning he tried to ignore them, make excuses for Morgana's actions. But the more he watched her, the more he began to realized that Morgana was not as innocent as she looked, and that knowledge hurt.

Arthur rubbed his face. He didn't want to think about Morgana, there were too many 'what ifs'.

He forced himself to think of something else. Anything else.

They would be arriving at Cendred's Kingdom soon, just two days. When they got there Arthur would send a knight in to ask about the whereabouts of a man named Emrys, then in the night they would sneak into the city, kill him, find Merlin, grab Merlin, and flee for their lives. It would be easy.

'_Well except for the part of convincing Merlin to leave with us,'_ Arthur thought with a snort, '_the noble idiot that he is, he will probably want to stay in Cendred's kingdom to continue his pathetic spy attempt.'_

Arthur turned over.

It would be nice to have Merlin back. He wasn't about to admit it, but he had missed the skinny idiot. There was also a lot the he wanted to question him about, like how his letter got to Camelot so fast, and when they were attacked in Cendred's Kingdom, how all of those men had gotten knocked unconscious. When Arthur had asked him how it had happened a couple weeks ago, Merlin had just grinned idiotically and said that they had tripped.

Arthur shook his head and massaged his face. Sometimes Merlin really could be an idiot. Yet Arthur knew, with surprising certainty, that if he questioned Merlin about those events at all, he would just laugh and clamp up. I had happened before. Actually, it had happened a lot, now that Arthur thought of it. Every time he had ever tried to ask a personal question Merlin would turn enigmatic and shrug the question off.

Nevertheless when they got back to Camelot, Arthur was going to sit Merlin down and make him talk. Merlin seemed to be keeping far too many secrets, and that fact was slightly disconcerting.

Abruptly, Arthur stood up. He knew he would not be able to get to sleep, he was restless, and so he might as well take over guard duty.

He quietly walked through the camp, so as not to wake anyone.

The man on watch was sitting with his back resting against a large tree. As Arthur approached, the man jumped up, perturbed at being caught relaxing. Arthur waved his hand, trying to put the knight at ease. Under normal circumstances Arthur probably would have lectured the knight on the value of staying alert, of constantly being on your guard, but tonight he didn't have the heart to do it.

Arthur walked up to the knight, who upon further inspection Arthur recognized as Sir Norum, one of his younger knights, and stood beside him.

"You can get some sleep," Arthur told Sir Norum quietly, "I will take over the watch for now."

Sir Norum threw him a quick glance then looked away.

"With all respect Sire," Norum said softly, "I would like to remain on duty for now," Sir Norum stared into the sky then continued, "There is a chill in the air, and it is putting me on edge."

Arthur leaned his back against the tree.

"You need your rest Sir Norum," Arthur said doggedly, "None of us will get enough of it as it is, and you need to conserve your strength for tomorrows ride."

Norum looked about to protest, but quickly shut his mouth, and then wearily made his way back towards the camp. He had gotten no more then a couple of steps when he slowly turned back around.

"Sire," Sir Norum said with a sadness that surprised Arthur, "Please?"

Arthur shot the blonde haired Knight a perplexed look, and then with a shrug of his shoulders Arthur motioned back towards the tree.

Norum inclined his head gratefully and returned to Arthur's side.

Arthur leaned his head back against the tree. Sir Norum was right. There was a chill in the air. Something was coming, something big, and they were just in its shadow. The entire forest seemed to be holding its breath, waiting.

…..

When Arthur awoke the next morning he felt drained and stiff. The sun was just beginning to peek its shining face over the horizon. He had only slept about an hour. Not wanting his men to see his weariness however, Arthur straightened his shoulders and lifted his head high.

They quickly packed up camp, doused the fire, and began to head out. As far as they knew, they had a long, boring day ahead of them.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

Arthur and his Knights rode quickly, impatient to arrive at Cendred's Kingdom. Arthur knew the importance of their mission; he knew that failing to kill Emrys, or not getting to him in time, could very well determine the fate of Camelot. He wanted that fate to be a good one. Arthur pushed his horse harder.

It was well past midday that Arthur finally let his men stop for a quick lunch.

It wasn't much, just the dried provisions from their saddlebags and water, yet they didn't complain, they had had worse. However, his Knights slumped shoulders and weary postures did not escape his notice. Arthur finally conceded and let his men take a brief rest.

It was as they were resting in the clearing after lunch that Sir Allen awkwardly approached him.

When Arthur saw him nearing he stiffened. He still had not forgiven him and Sir Kay for what they had done to Merlin, and he most certainly didn't trust them.

Sir Allen stepped in front of where Arthur was sitting with his back to a tree, and cleared his throat. At first, Arthur stubbornly refused look at him, and when he finally gave in and glanced up, it took all of his self-control not to turn that look into a glare.

Sir Allen sighed and wearily sat himself down next to him, not making eye contact. Arthur turned his head away and absentmindedly began pulling at the grass.

The silence soon grew awkward, and out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw Sir Allen shift uncomfortably.

"I, uh," Sir Allen cleared his throat a second time, "Just wanted to apologize for, well for the course of action we chose when we were attacked at in the woods in Cendred's Kingdom."

Arthur continued ripping up the earth.

"Really?" Arthur asked, his voice dangerously quiet, "Is that so?"

Sir Allen didn't seem to hear the angry hint to Arthur's voice, or if he had, he ignored it.

"I speak the truth Sire," Sir Allen went on contritely, "I would never wish harm to your manservant, and I wish I could take back what I did."

Arthur stopped fidgeting with the grass. Sir Allen had sounded genuinely remorseful. Arthur threw him a quick glance, then looked away again. Remorseful he may be, but that didn't take away what he had done, and Arthur was not about to forgive him easily.

"You regret what you did?" Arthur asked sarcastically, deliberately trying to make Sir Allen even more uncomfortable, "Oh I wonder why? You must have had a horrible time in the dungeons, as cold and clammy as they are, and then the blow to your pride must have been no small matter. You are a Knight of Camelot after all, when people look at you they are supposed to see the epitome of honor and nobility, oh, what a blow to your reputation getting locked up must have caused."

Arthur looked him in the eye, challengingly. He knew he was being unfair, but he wanted to see how Sir Allen reacted.

Sir Allen looked upset, almost offended.

"Sire, that's not what I meant!" Sir Allen said desperately, "I have lost sleep over what happened that morning. I know too well that you are right, as a Knight I have a duty to the people, to protect them when they cannot protect themselves, and I have failed. I beg for your forgiveness, and as soon as the opportunity presents itself, I will beg the forgiveness of your manservant."

Arthur glanced at him, impressed.

He liked Sir Allen, he really did. He had used to be one of his most loyal, and trusted Knights, one that Arthur had taken great pride in. Arthur had trained with Sir Allen longer then just about any of the other Knights, and he had grown to trust him.

Yet he wasn't sure if he could any longer.

Slowly Arthur turned towards him.

"You have a noble heart Sir Allen," Arthur said softly, "You are a brave Knight, one that I know that I can trust with my life." Arthur looked down, then added, "I just wish that I knew that I could trust you with the lives of my friends as well."

Sir Allen nodded, then with a sadness to him Arthur had never seen before, he wearily stood up and walked away.

…

After lunch, Arthur and the knights quickly continued their journey. They were tired but determined, and they made good time. Yet the closer they got to Cendred's Kingdom, the more the feeling of dread, the feeling that had been plaguing him since last night, grew. He wasn't sure whether it was his fighter instincts that had been drilled into him since he was a small boy, or some other sixth sense that this feeling was coming from, but it was like an itch at the back of his mind, a fear that would not go away. Something horrible was about to happen.

….

Merlin stared out the window in the servant's chambers, gazing at the blazing fusion of colors the setting sun was displaying. It was beautiful.

Yet the beauty did nothing to calm the growing trepidation he was feeling. It wasn't just fear, it was this hard knot growing in his chest, and it hurt. It had been bothering him all day.

Merlin glanced below him. The courtyard wall was positioned about ten feet beneath him, because the servant's chambers were placed at the very edge of the castle. Armed guards were patrolling along the wall, idly fidgeting with their crossbows.

A surge of pain in his chest made Merlin double over. He choked back a scream. When the throbbing had subsided Merlin slowly straightened up. What was wrong with him? Dread was not supposed to hurt. It wasn't natural. It had to be… '_Magic?_' Merlin thought, thinking hard, _'but how? Why?_'

…

Arthur gazed broodingly at the dancing flames of the campfire. The wind had picked up recently and pulled at the fire with greedy fingers.

Arthur leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head, and closed his eyes. He could hear his Knights murmuring to each other under their breaths.

Arthur sighed. It had been a long, but productive day, and he was tired. They would reach Cendred's Kingdom by tomorrow evening at the latest. They were doing well.

With that in mind, Arthur slowly drifted off into a light sleep.

…

The sound of twigs snapping awoke Arthur. He instinctively sat up and reached for his sword. He listened quietly, every muscle tensed, ready to spring into action at the slightest disturbance.

He waited.

It was late, the moon had reached its zenith in the night sky.

A twig snapped again, and Arthur was on his feet. Someone was out there.

His Knights were waking up at the noise, and some were already in battle position, weapons in hand.

They held their breaths.

A shadow. Arthur could see something moving in the surrounding forest.

"Hello?" Arthur called out experimentally, "Who is out there?"

The shadow stopped moving.

"Show yourself!" Arthur demanded, staring intently.

"Very well, Arthur of Camelot," A slimy voice said from the forest, with a disdainful edge, "As you wish."

Arthur frowned. Something wasn't right.

The shadow stepped out from the cover of the trees. The man that Arthur now saw was tall and wore a heavy black cloak, so his features remained in an ever-present shadow that seemed to hover around him.

Arthur tensed as more men began to step out of the forest, surrounding them.

Arthur threw a quick glance at the circling men, and with a sinking feeling realized that they were outnumbered at least four to one.

"What do you want?" Arthur asked loudly, deciding pleasantries would be pointless in this situation.

The black robed man laughed. It had an eerie sound to it that made the hair on the back of Arthur's neck rise.

When the laugher had subsided, the man waved at Arthur and his Knights with a careless motion.

"Kill them," The cloaked man said, yawning.

The men surrounding them didn't wait another moment. They attacked, yet Arthur and his Knights had anticipated the move, and were ready.

Five men charged Arthur, and the prince dove to the side, slashing one in the arm, and blocking a blow from another. He saw a sword swing toward his unprotected neck out of the corner of his eye, and quickly dodged, grabbing the swordsmen's arm and twisting it behind his back. A solid kick to the back of his legs sent Arthur tumbling to the ground. He rolled as a sword stabbed straight at him, berating himself for letting himself get knocked down.

Arthur jumped up and swiveled around, going on the attack and stabbing at three men.

His Knights were fighting bravely, but Arthur knew that they wouldn't be able to hold for long. It looked as if one of them had already been killed.

Arthur froze in mid-swing as a fireball flew through the air, striking down two more of his knights. Arthur heard a deep chuckle coming from behind him. A cold feeling of dread began to form in his chest. He recognized that chuckle. The fireball had come from the black cloaked man. He was a sorcerer! Arthur quickly finished off his opponent and faced the sorcerer. The man smiled cruelly, and then he muttered something under his breath, his eyes flashing gold.

The earth beneath Arthur's feet cracked, and began to pull apart at an alarming rate, creating a deep chasm.

Arthur instinctively jumped for safety, and he felt his feet hit the cracking dirt on the edge of the precipice. Arthur felt himself begin to fall and wind -milled his arms, in a desperate attempt to regain his balance. He couldn't make it. Arthur fell.

…

"Arthur… Arthur, no, NO!" Merlin sat up, gasping for breath. He was in a cold sweat and his heart was pounding in his ears. The cold feeling of terror in his stomach had intensified. What he had just dreamt hadn't only been a nightmare, of that Merlin was sure. Arthur was in trouble.

The pain in his chest grew unbearable and Merlin fell out of bed and smacked his head against the cold stone floor.

Merlin curled up into a small ball, wrapping his arms around his chest, until it finally subsided enough for him to quickly stagger to his feet.

He knew why he was in pain. Arthur needed him, he was in danger. The pain was a side-effect, and a warning. He knew what he had to do.

Merlin dashed for the door, doing his best not to wake Danen or Fernor.

Once in the corridor Merlin ran down the hall as fast as he could, his bear feet barely touching the smooth floor.

The pain had gone away. It had seemed to have realized that Merlin had gotten the message.

Merlin sharply rounded a corner, and shot down another hallway. He heard guards patrolling in a corridor to his right, but he wasn't really concerned. He had a prince to save and no amount of soldiers were about to stop him, plus, he knew their captain.

Merlin soon came to a large glass door and threw it open, stepping out onto the balcony overlooking the royal rose garden.

His eyes scanned the dark horizon, then lifted up to the moon.

A pressure was building in his chest, a pulling.

Merlin's head snapped toward the east. Arthur.

The pressure got tighter and tighter, and Merlin gripped the balcony, his knuckles turning white.

The pressure suddenly released.

Merlin threw his head back and roared into the sky, calling, calling out to the one creature that could help. Calling to the last Dragon.

When he had finished, Merlin collapsed to his knees, exhausted.

….

Time seemed to slow. Arthur felt himself falling. He saw himself reaching up, in a desperate attempt to grab onto the edge. He wasn't going to make it. He stretched out his fingers a little further. His hands connected with the edge of the precipice. Arthur's body jerked to a stop, jarring his shoulders. Arthur groaned in relief, and made to pull himself up onto solid ground, but the dirt began to crumble beneath his fingertips. The earth broke.

A hand shot down from above and grabbed Arthur firmly by the forearm.

"Got you!" A strained voice cried out in triumph.

The man slowly managed to pull him back up, away from the chasm.

Arthur threw his leg over the side and rolled up onto the edge, panting. Arthur shakily stood to his feet, and stared into the face of a serious looking Sir Norum.

"Than-" Arthur began, but was cut off when a man swung an axe at Norum's head.

Instinct kicked in, and Arthur dove at Sir Norum and pushed him to the ground, saving his life.

"You too," Norum groaned, then grabbed his sword and ran off to help his comrades.

Arthur jumped back to his feet and quickly surveyed his surroundings. To his horror he realized that most of his men had died, there were only a few Knights left.

Arthur angrily turned back towards the sorcerer. The black cloaked man had killed most of his Knights and needed to die before he killed anymore, no matter what the cost.

Arthur firmly gripped his sword and advanced upon the sorcerer, who had his back turned to him.

Arthur took a deep breath, then charged the sorcerer.

Arthur got no more then five feet before he felt himself flying backwards and slammed into a tree. He was then lifted back into the air and held there, slowly being choked.

"So this is it," The black cloaked sorcerer laughed from below him, "This, is the mighty prince of Camelot. I had expected so much more."

Arthur felt himself fall again, and his body erupted in pain as he hit the ground.

"Protect the Princ-" One of Arthur's knights called out, but was cut short by a quick death.

Arthur felt sick. He _hated, _watching his men die. He tried to stand to his feet, but fell back to his knees.

The man chuckled.

"Why are you doing this!" Arthur shouted angrily at the sorcerer, "Have you no honor?"

The black cloaked man continued chuckling, then murmured something under his breath.

Arthur felt the pressure return, like invisible fingers, choking him.

He couldn't breathe. His vision was getting fuzzy. In the haze he heard the man call back to him, "Who needs honor, when you can have power?" The sorcerer cried.

Arthur began to black out. He was dying.

Above him, Arthur heard a roar, a roar he recognized all too well.

'_No_!' he thought to himself, '_It can't be_.'

A dragon, The Great Dragon, dove down from the sky, mouth alight with flame.

**Authors Note: Yay! Cliffy! Please don't kill me…. I just couldn't resist, honest! Well I would just like to thank all of my readers that have stayed with the story this long, it really means a lot to us. And of course a very special thanks tooooo, Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, Merlin Fan, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, and Micro Chibi Baka San! *Falls over from exhaustion and dies* **

**Cheers! And have an amazing day!**

**TTTs**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Merlin, even though I have asked Santa for him for Christmas… So that may change by the end of the year! *grins stupidly*

**Authors note: Hello everyone! Ok, so I am really, really, realllly, really, sorry about the wait. I didn't mean for it to happen… it just kinda, did. Ooops. The next chapter should be up very soon though, I hope. Well, let me rephrase that: I would **_**like**_** to put the next chapter up soon, and I really, really, really, hope that I will! I have just been insanely busy lately… but it should be slowing down in the next ooooOo *thinks hard, but stops when it starts to hurt* 40 years *smiles brightly***

**Have a fantastic day!**

**Cheers!**

Chapter 8

Arthur watched blurrily as the Great Dragon soared down from the sky, fire bursting from his jaws, setting the forest alight with flame. The sorcerer's men looked up to face this new threat, and shouted in terror, backing up. The Dragon flew over the trees, scattering the men into the burning forest.

The knights grouped together into battle formation, roughly shoving back all thoughts of fear and doubt. They had fought this Dragon before and had returned home victorious. They would do so again, or die trying. With that thought in mind they straightened their shoulders and waited for the dragon to come their way.

Arthur rose shakily to his feet looking around for his fallen sword. He had to help them! Smoke was thick in the air, making it hard to see and breath. His throat felt raw from the lack of oxygen he had endured over the past few minutes, and the smoke burned in his lungs. He gasped and choked, struggling to stay upright.

The Dragon was back, the Dragon that was supposed to be dead, the Dragon that he had killed, was back.

He had to help his knights.

Casting his eyes about for his sword, he finally found it lying on the hard packed earth under some leaves, gleaming dully in the firelight. Arthur stooped down and picked it up, happy to have the firm sword in his grasp once more.

The dragon's severe, unrelenting flames were overwhelming the sorcerer's men, and only a few were able to escape into the relative safety of the forest.

A small part of Arthur's brain noticed that the dragon didn't seem to be attacking his own men at all, in fact, it seemed to be consciously avoiding them. If Arthur had not have known better, he could almost… Arthur shook his head, effectively ridding himself of all puzzling thoughts. He had a job to do.

Clumsily Arthur ran, his knee throbbing from the constant, straining activity of the last few minutes. He stopped when he reached his knights, who had stubbornly remained to protect their prince and their kingdom, despite their obvious fear.

Arthur felt a surge of affection for these few men in front of him. He could think of none more worthy, who he would rather fight beside, and if necessary, die, beside. '_Well_,' Arthur thought introspectively, amending his last thought. '_I can think of one skinny idiot who I would like to have beside me right now.' _

All further complimentary thoughts toward his ungainly manservant were cut off as the dragon, finally finished with the sorcerer's men, swooped down, and landed in front of them.

Arthur took a deep breath, exhaled, then slowly, confidently, walked toward the Great Dragon, brandishing his sword.

The dragon shifted his weight, then puffed noisily, steam shooting from his nostrils into the cold night air.

Instinctively, Arthur signaled for his men to split up and circle the beast, then smiled wryly at his own foolishness. It was just a Dragon, it's not as if it could understand what he was saying, so, obviously there was no reason for him to exchange signals. It was just a dumb beast.

But there was something in this dumb beast's eyes, an ancient intelligence there that made Arthur hesitate.

Startled, he realized that the Dragon's eyes were a deep gold color, not the angry, bloodthirsty red that he had seen on their previous encounter.

As he stared, the dragon's gaze shifted towards him, and stared back. Arthur sucked in his breath. No one moved.

Then with a sudden jerk, and a sweep of his wings, the dragon jumped up and soared into the night sky.

Arthur squinted and shielded his eyes as he was blasted by the pulsing wind.

The dragon couldn't be getting away! Not this time!

Desperately, Arthur ran forward and shouted into the cold night air, "Hey! Wait! Come back!"

The beat of the dragon's wings slowed, and to Arthur's surprise, the great beast turned, hovering in the air hundreds of feet above them.

Arthur shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do. He could hardly ask the dragon to come back down so he could kill him. Already unnerved, Arthur just stood, bewildered.

The dragon cocked his head, then from his mouth sprang a golden mist, that swirled and sparkled dazzlingly bright as it fell.

Arthur stiffened. That was magic.

Just before the mist hit him, Arthur thought he heard a quiet snort from the dragon as it flew off, then he was immersed in the golden light, and he saw the ground rushing toward him.

….

Merlin reached for the door latch to Lord Haymor's chambers, but leapt hastily back as Ollic came storming out, his face alight with anger.

"Ollic," Lord Haymor called out wearily, "Wait, please, I didn't mean that."

The old physician seemed to turn hard of hearing however, for he heavily continued his pace down the corridor, not once looking back.

From his position with his back pressed against the opposite wall, Merlin shot a careful glance a Lord Haymor, who was staring hard at the ground.

Merlin stood stock still, loath to catch Lord Haymor's attention at a time like this.

After what seemed an eternity, Lord Haymor sighed, and flicked his glance at Merlin.

"Leave me," He muttered quietly, and with a sad look down the corridor, walked back into his chambers, his door closing with a solid click behind him.

Merlin subconsciously breathed a sign of relief. He hated fights, whether he was the one whiplashing the angry words or not.

Merlin cast a concerned glance down the corridor, much as Lord Haymor had done.

He liked Ollic, he really did.

In his short period of time here, he had already grown to have a solid respect for Ollic and Lord Haymor both.

Ollic had practically brought him back from the dead, healing the arrow wound in his left shoulder, while Lord Haymor had found him in the woods and given him a place to stay. Now they were fighting.

Course, now that he remembered, he had felt a tension between the two of them since the first day of his rather awkward arrival.

Merlin sighed.

He knew what he had to do.

He quietly began following the upset physician, not wanting to disturb him.

….

Merlin stood outside Ollic's closed door, with a philosophical look on his face. He really wanted to open this door and try his best to comfort the physician. On the other hand, he was quite certain he _shouldn't _open this door, on the rather large chance that the physician didn't want comforting.

Finally Merlin shrugged, coming to a decision, and letting his curious side recklessly get the better of him.

Merlin reached for the latch. He wasn't going to knock, knowing that he would probably be sent away. He was planning to help his friend out whether he wanted him to or not.

Merlin flicked the latch and opened the door, stepping inside Ollic's chambers.

He froze.

Ollic was standing by his nightstand, face bowed, holding a small sketch of a very beautiful woman.

He looked so sad.

Merlin winced. Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been this. He cast an uneasy glance at the door and wished with everything in him that he had knocked.

Slowly, Merlin began edging towards the door. Ollic obviously needed to be left alone. He backed up one small step. Then another. He was so close. Just one more step.

The floor squeaked.

Ollic's moist eyes shot up, locking on Merlin's mortified ones.

Ollic's brows snapped together.

"Uhm sorry," Merlin babbled hastily, instinctively taking a step back and almost tripping over his own feet in the process, "Didn't mean to barge in like that, well not really, I just wanted to see what was wrong, so I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, it- uhh won't happen again, I promi-"

"Emrys," Ollic said wearily slowing placing the drawing of the woman down and rubbing his eyes, "It's alright, you can come in."

Merlin stopped backing towards the door. Ollic seemed to have forgotten his earlier anger, replacing it with a deep seeded sadness.

Merlin's heart ached for him.

Slowly, Merlin began walking back into the room. He didn't want to be in here. Ollic's hurt brought back too many memories. Ollic continued to gaze at the picture he had set on his nightstand.

Merlin quietly walked until he stood beside the weary physician, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

He recognized the hurt in his voice. He had felt it. He stood in silence beside the man until Ollic had straightened his shoulders and lifted his head.

"What was her name?" Merlin asked softly.

Ollic didn't answer, and Merlin wondered if he had gone to far. He didn't want to intrude, but he knew that talking would help. It was also one luxury he had never gotten.

He had never been able to talk about Freya's death to anyone. They wouldn't understand.

Ollic sighed, and then finally answered, "Chloe," he said heavily, "Her name was Chloe."

Merlin flicked a cautious glance at him, wondering if he should go further.

He had to. He knew it. Taking a deep breath for courage Merlin plowed on, knowing that a straightforward attempt would be best.

"What happened to her?" Merlin asked, turning his head to look Ollic in the eye.

Ollic shook his head sadly, and sighed before he answered.

"She was killed," Ollic said bluntly, but his voice cracked, "She was killed in Camelot, and Haymor killed her."

Merlin sucked in his breath sharply, and almost coughed.

"What?" Merlin exclaimed disbelievingly, feeling stunned, "Lord Haymor killed her? What… why?"

Ollic frowned.

"It was not intentional," He said, slightly irritably, "but it was his fault."

Merlin let out a breath he had not known he had been holding, as relief washed over him. Lord Haymor was still a good person.

"What happened?" Merlin asked curiously, feeling a bit more at ease now.

Ollic rubbed his face and motioned for Merlin to sit down.

"It was twenty years ago," Ollic said heavily, "In Camelot."

_**20 years earlier… In Camelot**_

_Ollic stood by his chamber window watching the setting sun, apprehension growing in his chest. Tonight was the night! _

_Tonight, they would escape._

_Uther had just lost his wife, and with her his wits. He was mad with rage and grief, and thirsty for the blood of sorcerers. _

_The entire city was in lock-down. No one was to get in. Or out._

_Nevertheless, Ollic had found a way out. He would get him and his wife out of here. They couldn't stay, they would be killed. _

_The relentless hunt of sorcery was happening even now. If Ollic listened, he thought that he could even hear the footsteps of the soldiers coming to arrest him. They were getting closer… and closer._

_Ollic jumped, flinging himself around, as the door to his chambers flew open._

_It was his wife, Chloe. Ollic breathed a sigh of relief. He was scared. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and ears. He was scared of getting caught, and he was scared of dying. But mostly, he was scared of _her_ dying, Ollic thought, watching the nervous figure of his wife._

_Chloe was young, in her twenties, which was a good ten years younger then Ollic. And she was beautiful. _

_Strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her back, framing an elegant face with high cheekbones and green eyes._

_Ollic smiled at her. Just the sight of her somehow always managed to cheer him up. Chloe nervously twirled her hair and smiled back. _

_They waited in silence as the sun slowly descended, casting the world in a brilliant tangle of colors. _

_They waited, as the colors slowly faded, and darkness came over the land. _

_Ollic took a deep, steadying breath. It was time._

_Chloe shot him a questioning look, and Ollic nodded. Time to go._

_Motioning towards the door, Ollic started to walk towards it, and felt Chloe's small hand slip into his. _

_He smiled down at her, and squeezed it comfortingly. _

_Quietly, Ollic inched the door open, praying that it would not squeak. Silence. Satisfied, Ollic began leading Chloe down towards the dungeons, towards the tunnel, and towards the iron grate at the end of the tunnel._

_A friend would be waiting for him there, with a servant and two horses to yank the grate off._

_At least, Ollic hoped that a friend would be waiting for him there. He had sent him a letter, but hadn't received one back due to the fact messengers couldn't get in. _

…_._

"What?" Merlin interrupted confused, "If messengers weren't allowed to travel, how were you able to send your letter?"

Ollic looked at him irritably, not happy at having been jolted from his train of thought.

"How do you think?" The old physician asked, staring at Merlin as if it should be obvious.

Slowly, Merlin's mouth formed the shape of an 'O' as realization dawned on him. This man was a sorcerer after all. Merlin had used exactly the same spell to get his letter to Arthur.

Ollic nodded, rolling his eyes. Then continued retelling his history.

Reluctantly, Merlin settled back down and listened. He didn't like this story. He knew it wasn't going to have a happy ending.

…

_Quickly, stealthily, Ollic and Chloe made their way to the dungeons, their soft boots making almost no sound on the smooth stone floor._

_As they were descending the cold steps, they heard the heavy clang of metal boots on stone. The guards!_

_Their survival instinct taking over, Ollic and Chloe dashed into the deep shadows on the stairway, shrinking back until their backs hit the wall._

_They held their breaths. Ollic prayed that the guards wouldn't have a torch._

_Thankfully the patrol rounded the corner empty handed, but then slowly began making its way up the wide staircase. _

_Ollic closed his eyes. They had no reason to be down here, at least no valid one that they could tell the guards. If they were found, Ollic knew that they wouldn't live to see the morrow. _

_The guards loudly continued ascending the stairs, their gazes stuck straight ahead._

_When they were level with them, they were so close Ollic thought he almost could have reached out and touched them. Yet wisely, Ollic decided to keep his hands to himself. Without difficulty, the guards reached the top of the stairs and continued on. _

_Ollic wanted to lean against the wall and bathe in the relief he was feeling. But they had to keep moving. He didn't want to run out of time. _

_Taking Chloe by the hand, they hastily entered the foul smelling dungeons. Chloe crinkled her nose in distaste. No one entered the dungeons unless they had no other choice, especially these days. Men, woman and children were being locked up everyday on the charge of sorcery. This place reeked of fear and death. _

_Ollic saw a small girl with big eyes staring at him though the bars. She couldn't have been more then ten._

_Her face looked so… hopeless. _

_Beside him, he felt Chloe stiffen, and heard her soft cry of pity. Ollic kept moving. Letting the people in the dungeon out could mean them getting caught, could mean Chloe getting caught. He couldn't allow that. _

_Chloe ran to catch up, grabbing his forearm and tapping him on the shoulder. Ollic had expected as much. Chloe had a big heart. He looked down at her. Her face was ashen. Chloe motioned towards the cells, mouthing, "Help them." _

_Ollic shook his head sadly. He couldn't. Ollic made to turn back around and take Chloe by the hand but she withdrew, stepping back, shaking her head._

_Ollic turned to her in desperation, trying to make her understand. If he let them out, there was every possibility that they would __**all**__ be caught. Chloe shook her head stubbornly and Ollic felt a surge of affection for her._

_Ollic rubbed his face and sighed, shaking his head. This would very well be the death of them, but deep down, he knew Chloe was right. Ollic then lifted his head, and held his hand out, fingers spread wide. Ollic murmured quietly under his breath, and waited. Nothing happened. Frowning, Ollic closed his eyes and murmured again. This time the locks on the cells slowly clicked open. _

_No one moved. _

_Then hesitantly, the prisoners started stirring in their cells, standing up and pushing their doors open with loud squeaks. _

_Ollic winced, and grabbed Chloe by the hand. This time she didn't pull away. She was looking at him with big, adoring eyes. _

_Ollic rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation, but inwardly he grinned. Behind him, Ollic heard a muted cry of delight. Turning around, he watched as the little girl ran, and embraced a big man in a bear hug. _

"_Papa!" The little girl murmured into his shoulder. _

_This time, Ollic did grin. _

_With a light heart Ollic began pulling Chloe along, and made for the small entrance to the tunnel at the back of the dungeons. Abruptly, he stopped, an idea forming in his brain. He had let them go, so why not get them out? Ollic turned around, and motioned for the prisoners to follow him. A few shot him confused glances when he motioned towards the opening in the wall that was barely more then a crack. Others looked amused. Yet in the end, he finally got them to follow him into the tunnel._

_Ollic nodded, feeling satisfied. _

_The tunnel was dark and damp. With no torch, Ollic could barely see his own hand. He heard muttered curses as the prisoners stumbled in the almost pitch darkness. _

_It felt like an eternity before he finally saw a dull light up ahead. And with that light came a surge of hope, hope he had not allowed himself before. They were going to make it!_

_The grate was now in front of him, and beyond it he could see a clearing, and beyond that, the forest, and beyond that, the night sky. _

_Ollic placed his hands on the grate, pressing his face to the bars, looking for his old friend, Lord Haymor. _

_In the trees, a little to his right, he heard a horse whinny. His eyes, snapped in that direction._

_He saw a movement in the forest, and pushed his arm though the bars to wave a greeting. Only too late did he realize that the movement in the forest could be unfriendly. Ollic snapped his arm back. He needn't have, for the moving shadows quickly morphed into Lord Haymor who was leading two horses, with a servant lagging behind him. _

_Ollic smiled in relief. They were here. _

_Lord Haymor locked eyes with him, and smiled. In his hands he held a think chain. With skillful hands, Haymor quickly began hooking the chain to the metal grate, and motioned for his servant to tie the other end to some rope that was connected to the horses._

_The servant didn't seem to see the gesture however, and just looked up at the immense castle walls. _

_Impatiently Haymor got the servant's attention and repeated the order._

_With a nod of the head, the servant made to carry out Lord Haymor's commands. Yet Ollic realized that his work was slow, and the result clumsy. _

_When Lord Haymor was done connecting the chain and saw his servant's handiwork, he had to entirely redo it. _

_Ollic rolled his eyes in frustration. He was getting anxious. They had to hurry. _

_Lord Haymor completed the job quickly however, and with no difficulty. When it was done, Lord Haymor grinned at him, and nodded, telling him to start. _

_Just like he had in the dungeons, Ollic outstretched his hand, closed his eyes, and began to murmur incomprehensibly. At the same time, Haymor began to whip the horses, urging them forward. The chain went taut, and the horses strained._

"_Come on," Lord Haymor muttered under his breath, "come on!" _

_They remained thus for at least two minutes. Sweat dripped from the horse's slick fur, and beaded out on Ollic's forehead. _

_Everyone waited._

_Nobody noticed as the servant inconspicuously slipped away, into the night. _

'_CRACK' _

_Everyone jumped. _

_The grate was coming loose from the wall. The prisoners practically cheered, but were quickly hushed by Chloe. With renewed enthusiasm, Ollic pushed forward, his murmurings getting louder. The horses, feeling the give in the wall, pulled all the harder._

_The grate came free with a loud snap, and lots of flying debris._

_Slapping each other on the back, the prisoners dashed out of the tunnel into the cold night, clapping and cheering despite Ollic's desperate attempt to quiet them._

_It was then that he heard a cold voice._

"_Well, I had thought that something like this might happen."_

_Ollic spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. It didn't seem to have come from any of the prisoners. They had stopped their cheers and were looking around in fear. _

"_But I must say, I didn't really expect so many." The voice continued._

_Ollic had found the speaker before he had even finished his sentence._

_It was a Knight in full battle armor, and surrounding him were at least forty men. _

_Ollic's heart sank. They had been so close. _

_Ollic didn't let any of his fear show however, keeping his face completely expressionless, on the verge of cocky. _

"_Your men are useless Knight," Ollic said boldly, praying that the man didn't see through his mask, "What chance stand your men against fifteen sorcerers, anyone of whom could kill you with a blink of an eye." _

_The Knight shook his head condescendingly, "It won't work Ollic." _

_Ollic sucked in his breath sharply. How did this man know his name?_

_The Knight continued, "Now, you can either come peacefully and be burned alive tomorrow morning, or you can pointlessly resist, and die tonight. Your choice."_

_Ollic lifted his head proudly._

"_I would never be so cowardly as to surrender!" He said stubbornly, "Bring your best Sir Knight, your going to need it."_

_The Knight smiled unpleasantly, "I had rather hoped you would say that."_

_Ollic sensed the arrow flying towards his heart a moment before he saw it. He dove to the side, the arrow just grazing his arm. It still hurt. Ollic gritted his teeth. _

_The forty men were charging the few sorcerers now, roaring battle cries. _

_The sorcerers screamed and dodged, but it was hopeless. Most of them weren't sorcerers at all, having been sentenced on false charges. The others were mostly healers, who were completely harmless, even when their lives were in danger. _

_They were helpless._

_The only person with a suitable weapon was Lord Haymor, who desperately flung himself at various opponents. He was proving himself quite dangerous. _

_A man cockily charged Chloe, who had just pulled the little girl away from a sword stroke. _

_Cold fear shot up Ollic's spine, running through his entire being, freezing him up. Chloe was about to die!_

_A hot knot formed in Ollic's chest, burning inside him, voicelessly screaming to come out. Of its own volition, Ollic's hand raised, his mouth opened, and words he did not know came flooding out. _

_A surge of energy pulsed out from his hand, hitting the man square in the chest and sending him flying backwards until he hit the castle wall with an ugly cracking sound._

_Ollic shuddered and hit the ground hard, exhausted. _

_The ten year old girl Chloe had rescued screamed in outrage and fear as her father was stabbed in his shoulder and crumpled to the ground. Her cry turned desperate, and the men surrounding her father flew backwards, and landed unconscious._

_Ollic struggled to his feet._

_This fight was hopeless, he had known that even before it had started, but these innocent people were being butchered. _

_They weren't going to make it. If only he could get Chloe and the small children to safety._

_Ollic felt as if a black hand had closed over his heart as he heard a soft, strangled gasp from Chloe behind him. _

_Terrified of what he might find, and dread descending upon him, Ollic turned around. _

_The Black Hand around his heart tore it out. _

_Chloe stood doubled over, gasping, while an arrow protruded from her chest. _

_Ollic cried out in grief and fear._

_The rest was a blur._

_Arrows flew in the air like rain around him, but he didn't care. What mattered anymore? _

_He had tried to drag Chloe away, into the forest, but five men blocked his way. At least, they did for a moment. He could never remember what had happened to them._

_The ten year old had run away, dragging her injured father behind her._

_She made it out alive._

_Chloe did not._

...

**Authors note: Oh, this is a sad chapter *sniffles* I actually broke this one off short, because originally what I have here was going to be less then half of what I had planned. **

**Yes, it did take me that long to realize that, well, this was going to be waaaay to long. **

**So, as always, I just want to thank all of my readers. I really, really, really, rEallY… oh you get the point- appreciate you! No, wait, scratch that, we really ( I am beginning to think that I have abused that word a bit) lOve you guys! And thanks for all of the alerts and favorites, they make us sooo happy!**

**Hmmmmm am I forgetting something? I really think I am, but I just can't quite put my finger on it… oh well, I'll probably remember it later. Kidding ****.**

**Thank you sooo much to everyone who has reviewed, I know I know, you've heard it a lot, but, really!**

**So thank you…. Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, Merlin Fan, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, and Micro Chibi Baka San, Ringo's imaginarycat, TaintedXIllusion, 104Arianna, and Imperial Mint! Thanks again! See, I didn't die that time! Aren't I a good person?**

**Cheers!**

**TTTs**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Merlin. *sniffles*

**Author's note: *judge stands up and says loudly, "This horrible person has been accused of laziness and writers block, is there anyone here who will vouch for them?"- I look at readers hopefully- "anyone? Please? Oh, come on! I'm not **_**that**_** late!" – judge bangs evil hammer- "apparently not. Ok horrible person, you are sentenced to death!" me- "NooOOOOoo!"* **

**Hehe Hi everyone! Sorry, I have realized that my authors note have been getting more and more stupid and random, and doesn't matter what I do I can't fix it! I guess that I will just have to deal with being branded as a weirdo for the rest of my life now… oh well, not much has changed then, anyway! **

**Oh, and sorry for the length of this chapter, there was just a lot that I needed to squeeze into it! Love you guys!**

**Cheers**!

Chapter 9

The suns early morning rays filtered through the edges of Arthur's eyelids, causing him to throw a hand over his face and turn over on the hard ground.

"For gods sake, close the curtains Merlin!" He said groggily, annoyed that his servant had chosen this particular morning to show up on time. He had had such an interesting dream. He kept his hand suspended above his eyes, waiting in hope that his untimely manservant might show pity on him this morning. Half asleep, a small part of Arthur's brain wondered why there seemed to be a sharp twig poking him in the back. Merlin's cleaning abilities may be below his own personal standards, but surely he wouldn't sink to letting his masters own bedbecome _twig_ infested. Arthur's eyebrows lowered as he shifted onto what felt suspiciously like a pebble.

A light breeze stirred Arthur's hair and tickled his eyelashes causing his blue eyes to flutter open.

He was in a clearing, filled with bodies.

'_No_,' Arthur thought, dread forming in his stomach, as visions from the previous night descended upon him like a dirty blanket. He pushed himself to his feet, his weariness dropping away from him as if it had never been there.

He remembered all too vividly the horror he had experienced just hours before.

A black cloaked sorcerer had attacked them with fire and magic, and had mercilessly killed his men, enjoying every minute of it. Arthur hated him for it.

He had known at the time that if help did not arrive, he and his men would be massacred. Oddly enough, he had almost expected to be saved, in some way or another.

He had always been before. A broken branch saving his life here, a convenient rockslide there.

Arthur frowned. Sometimes, it seemed as if there were almost too many lifesaving coincidences happening around him. They happened often enough that he had begun to subconsciously expect them, even wait for them.

Arthur lifted his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes, ridding them of irksome grit.

He knew that expecting well-timed miracles to save them in times of trouble was irresponsible, even childish.

Yet one had

As to whether this miracle was a blessing or curse Arthur remained uncertain.

A dragon that was supposed to be dead had come swooping down out of the sky, chasing off the sorcerer and his thirty men.

Arthur's eyebrows lowered in thought.

The dragon was evil, or at least was supposed to be. It had killed a countless number of innocent people when it had a mysteriously escaped from below the castle. Some of those people had been well respected Knights. Yes, the dragon was most definitely evil. Arthur's head nodded as he came to this conclusion, more to help convince himself then anything else.

But at the same time…

'_No,_' Arthur told himself sternly, interrupting the thought before it could leave a trace of doubt in his mind, '_the dragon is evil and bloodthirsty. That's all there is to it._'

But at the same time… he heard himself annoyingly go on, the dragon had saved their lives.

Arthur combed his fingers through his blonde hair, stifling a sigh.

That was the heart of the mystery.

Shaking his head, Arthur glanced around the clearing. He needed to get his mind off troubling thoughts.

His men were sprawled out, sleeping in different, uncomfortable looking positions. Arthur understood why. Right before the dragon had flown away, a golden mist had spiraled from his jaws, descending upon them and putting them to sleep.

The corners of Arthur's mouth twitched downwards. He could find no purpose to the dragons actions, and the very idea that the dragon may have done something to him formed a sick ball in the pit of his stomach.

All of his training told him that the dragon must have done something horrible to him, and the thought of facing the unknown was beginning to get to him. He just hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't a bewitching spell, or even worse, a _love_ spell. He had had a few too many close calls with spells of that sort, and he now had a deep seeded nervousness of them.

Yet his instincts told him that wasn't the case. When the mist had touched him it had felt pleasant, and… Arthur searched for the word… warm.

'_Of course it felt warm_,' He told himself bitingly, '_It was a dragon's_ breath!'

And it had felt soothing, the illogical part of him went on exasperatingly. And when it touched my wounded knee...

Arthur sucked in his breath, and stared at his leg. He didn't feel… It couldn't be! But there was only one way to find out.

With experienced hands, Arthur probed at his knee, expecting to feel a stab of pain from the knee that had never fully healed. But one never came. Bewildered, Arthur bent over and pulled up the leg on his trousers, and stared at the smooth patch of skin where the scar used to be. His knee was healed.

Arthur felt his mouth hanging open in a very uncomely fashion, but he was too shocked to care. The dragon had healed him! The dragon had healed him… with magic.

Arthur was not sure if he was disgusted or grateful, and in the conflict of emotions surging through him, it was surprisingly curiosity that got the better of him. Throwing caution to the wind, Arthur drew his hand back, took a deep breath, and then swiped at his knee.

Unavoidably, at the last second, Arthur's hand slowed the slightest bit in hesitation, but the impact on the knee was still substantial and if his leg had not been fully healed, the pain would have been excruciating. But he had felt nothing.

Arthur frowned, staring at his knee contemplatively. He didn't like that he had been healed by magic, but he planned to make the best of it. What was really worrying him was what his fathers reaction would be when he told him. Knowing his father, he would not be surprised if he fell into a mad rage and redoubled his fight against sorcery, furious that magic had been used on his son.

Arthur was reluctant for that to happen not because he held any pity for sorcerers – who had proved to be evil to their core time and time again, but because he was well grounded enough to know that with all the evil sorcerers sent to the stake, many innocents would die as well.

'_I just won't tell him_,' Arthur decided, '_if I just don't tell anybody, then no harm will come of this. And if anyone asks, I will just say it healed of natural causes._'

Distracted by his recent discovery and already on his nerves edge, Arthur was unprepared to hear a soft whistle of surprise from behind him, and jumped guiltily.

Berating himself, Arthur turned his head to look over his shoulder, and found Sir Norum standing there, an impressed look on his face.

"Well well My Lord," Sir Norum said with a smile, "It seems we have both landed ourselves in a rather sticky situation."

Arthur stared at him uncertainly, unsure how he was going to react to the fact that he had just seen what was very obviously the result of magic. Powerful magic.

Arthur faced him, and then asked carefully, "Why would you say that?"

Sir Norum gave him a slightly sad smile, then held up his arm, its sleeve soaked in blood, and sliced from shoulder to elbow. To all appearances, he seemed to have a rather nasty arm wound. Norum reached for the cuff of his sleeve, and gently pushed it up his arm to his shoulder, revealing the unharmed skin of his forearm beneath.

Arthur's eyebrows soared, then slowly, he sighed, rubbing the side of his face. It seemed he wasn't the only one to have been miraculously healed. This would be harder to keep quiet then he had thought.

"Though I must say I am relieved Sire," Sir Norum said with an easy smile. "I had quite a start this morning finding my arm magically healed, and it's a relief if nothing else to know that I am not the only one."

Arthur nodded, unsure as to how he should react, as he was Uther's son. Confused and feeling slightly out of his depth, Arthur cast about blindly for a question to break the rather awkward silence that was developing.

"When did you notice the change?" Arthur asked, knowing the question was unnecessary but unable to think of anything better to say. He needed time to think.

Sir Norum raised his eyebrows and pulled the sleeve back down. He hid a smile at the question, which he had answered only moments before. '_The prince clearly has a lot on his mind,' Norum_ thought, cocking his head, and decided to try to lighten the mood a little.

"Well," Norum said with the slightest traces of a smirk, annoyingly acknowledging the pointlessness of the question, "this morning." He said unhelpfully, and then added, "After I heard you hollering at a certain… misplaced manservant."

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he detected the underlying humor in his voice. Recently, he had begun to notice a slightly sarcastic, amused side to Sir Norum's character. They were traits Arthur found he valued in his Knights, who were normally so stiff and formal. He just wished Norum could find some other, less stressful time to reveal his unexpected quality of humor. He cast about for another subject, but couldn't think of one.

He was dealing with magic, the most frowned upon exercise in the kingdom, and he wasn't sure what he should do about it, in fact, he wasn't even sure what he _could_ do about it.

'_I could always just ask Norum not to tell the King,'_ Arthur thought introspectively, '_but doing so would be asking him to commit a crime close to treason.' _

Arthur lifted his hands to his face and closed his eyes, massaging his face. This was an unnecessary problem and he just wished it would go away.

'_Besides, I doubt that he is the only knight to have been mysteriously healed.' _He thought gloomily.

Arthur could feel Sir Norum's eyes upon him, trying to discern his thoughts, and that caused Arthur feel increasingly uncomfortable.

Arthur dropped his hands from his face, and sighed, looking at the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Norum leaning back against a tree, seemingly relaxed.

Arthur dropped his gaze, and looked him in the eye, trying to figure him out. He was a Knight, he was supposed to hate magic with an intensity mirroring that of King Uther himself.

All in all though, Sir Norum looked pretty at ease with the whole thing.

'_He does seem oddly calm_,' Arthur thought, suspicion beginning to worm its way into his mind, '_Considering he has just found out he has been influenced by magic, and in front of the Crown prince of Camelot no less!'_

Sir Norum must have been able to see the suspicion in Arthur's gaze, for his smile widened. They remained thus, and seconds slowly passed, each one agonizingly long, each one growing more awkward then the last.

Finally, Arthur could bare it no longer. He may not trust Norum, but he had to say _something._

"So," Arthur started, then cleared his throat, more to buy time then anything else. Sir Norum raised his eyebrows, and politely gestured for him to continue.

Arthur sighed.

Norum could at least try to aid him in his fruitless attempt at retrieving back the lost threads of this conversation.

Coming to a decision, Arthur straightened his shoulders.

"I have been thinking," He began, trying to find a tactful way to ask Norum to keep his mouth shut about the whole matter and not tell the king. He would have to talk with the other knights later.

"My Father has been very distracted of late, and perhaps it would be best to just… you know." Arthur paused, knowing the enormity of what he was about to ask, "What I am trying to say is, do you think that you could maybe-"

"Sire," Norum interrupted, looking him in the eye to make sure he had his attention, "I won't tell the King."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise.

Sir Norum was smiling in understanding, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards, the short, blonde headed man before him, who was willing to risk his life to protect the innocents.

"Thank you," Arthur said sincerely, and felt a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Inclining his head, Norum pushed himself from the tree.

Then with a smirk and a slight bow, he turned on his heel and walked away.

….

A sad silence followed the conclusion of Ollic's reiterated history.

Merlin felt a lump forming in his throat, and pushed it fiercely back.

Ollic was staring out the window, memories of a time long gone showing themselves in his eyes.

"Ollic," Merlin said, emotion cracking his voice, "I'm so sorry."

Ollic nodded, but said nothing. Merlin suspected he did not trust himself to speak.

A sudden question presented itself in Merlin's mind, causing his face to wrinkle in thought.

There was one part of Ollic's story that just didn't add up. Merlin shifted uncomfortably, then took a preparatory breath and plunged into the question.

"One thing though," Merlin said, shifting all his weight onto his left foot, "You said that Lord Haymor was responsible for Chloe's dea…" Merlin trailed off awkwardly before finishing the word, not wanting to offend the physician.

Ollic waved his hand slightly for him to continue.

"It's just," Merlin said, a disturbed look on his face, "How? I mean, why blame him? What did he do? As far as I could tell, he was just trying to help, but then the knight found you."

Ollic stared at him, frowning.

Merlin shifted under the unhappy gaze and wished that he had just kept his mouth shut. It was getting him into trouble all too often these days, and Merlin made a mental note to bite his tongue the next time he tried to waggle it.

With a weary sigh, Ollic rubbed his face.

"I will tell you why," Ollic said, with a venom in his voice that made Merlin start, "It was right after the battle, and I was running through the woods."

**Outside Camelot. 20 years ago**

_Ollic stumbled over a log, grazing his knee. It was dark, and he couldn't see a thing. He heard the shouts of men behind him and redoubled his efforts, the weight of Chloe's slight body feeling heavy in his arms. He was so tired._

_A couple meters down the path ahead of him, Ollic heard a man grunt as he stumbled through the undergrowth._

_Ollic's heart skipped a beat. They were closing in on him, and Ollic's breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. He knew he couldn't keep up this merciless pace for much longer, and that sooner or later they would catch him._

_He needed a place to hide._

_Ollic stumbled gracelessly to a halt, casting his eyes about for a proper hiding place. A few meters up and to the left of the game trail he was traveling along, Ollic saw an especially dense clump of bushes and headed for them. The shouts of men behind him were getting louder. _

_The shrubbery was thick, but Ollic could see a small hollow at its center and plowed onward, the bush catching at his clothing and cutting lightly into his skin. _

_He was scraped and battered by the time he finally made it to the small hollow at the bushes center, and not a moment too soon._

_Ollic heard a man's rather inventive curse nearby as he blundered through the dark, oppressive forest._

_Ollic ducked and held his breath as the frustrated man passed by the protective clump of bushes and clamored on. _

_He remained stock still, not wanting to give himself away with a careless movement. The minutes dragged on, and Ollic heard more shouts and cries of triumph echoing in the night around him. As the time slowly passed, Ollic's breathing eventually slowed as well, but he could distinctly feel the never ending, frantic drumming of his heartbeat. He could feel his foot going to sleep beneath him, and resisted the urge to shift his weight._

_The sound of Chloe's shallow breathing beside him caused him to turn his head and glance downward. As he looked into her face, a knot of tight, hurtful emotions churned in his chest, the most painful of which was love. _

_He didn't trust himself to let his gaze shift from her face, and slide down her body, for he was terrified of what he would see. A small, desperate part of him, tried to believe that if he didn't see the arrow, it wouldn't actually be there… sticking from his loves chest. _

_Ollic violently blinked back the tears that were forming in his eyes. Now was not the time to mourn, it would give them away. _

_Ollic was still struggling with his pent up emotions when he heard another man walking down the path. Yet unlike the others, who stumbled blindly and uncertainly through the undergrowth, this man walked with a confidence and purpose that made Ollic subconsciously squat down a little further._

_Peering through the bushes, Ollic just made out the face of the unpleasant knight. As the knight walked past Ollic's clump of shrubbery, an old soldier came skirting from the opposite direction and hailed him._

"_Sir Heice," the soldier called out, coming slightly to attention, "All the sorcerers have been overtaken and killed, saving their leader Ollic and a small girl of course."_

_The knight frowned at the man, not satisfied. _

"_The king will not be pleased. He has demanded their heads, so find them, they can't have gotten far, for they are weak, and in shock." Sir Heice said, his calculating eyes pitiless. _

_The old man, shifted uncomfortably, not looking very enthusiastic._

"_Well, yes Sir," the soldier said reluctantly, then added, "but surely Uther doesn't mean the little girl as well, she's just a slight little thing she is, can't be more then ten. What harm could she do anyone eh?"_

_Sir Heice smiled, an ugly glint in his eye._

"_You _will_ find them lieutenant, or it will be your head replacing theirs on the chopping block. Understood?" _

_The old lieutenant gulped, and actually took a half step back._

"_Ok ok Sir. There's no need for that. They will be found." The soldier said, trying to placate him._

_The Knight continued to smile unpleasantly at him, suspicion of his loyalty now all too evident in his gaze. He didn't believe him. _

_The grizzled soldier, seeing his end in the very near future, opted to try to smooth him over a bit. He stepped forward, taking on an admiring tone of voice. "And, if I may add Sir, you did a wonderful job at finding them. Simply wonderful." The man forced a weak smile, but it quickly faded under the Knights stony glare. Taking a deep breath, the old man decided to try again._

"_I can't see how you did it Sir! You got there just in time as well! Staggering how you did that, simply staggering!" This time, the man was able to hold the smile on his face a tad bit longer._

_The Knights eyes remained stuck to his face, cold and calculating, trying to discern if this old soldier was the type who would revolt. _

_Finally, Sir Heice turned away, a disgusted look on his face._

"_Trust me lieutenant," The knight said as he walked away, "With the signs Ollic's friends left, a madman could have found them."_

...

"Friends? Who else was there besides Lord Haymor?" Merlin asked, then understanding dawned in his eyes, "Oh, you mean his servant."

Ollic nodded widely. He seemed to have pulled himself together a little, or at least he had put managed to get his mask back on. Merlin could still see the sadness in his eyes, but he no longer looked broken.

"Yes… his servant," Ollic said thoughtfully, "Fernor, if I remember correctly."

Merlin felt himself freeze as he sucked in his breath, but his mind started racing a mile a minute.

Fernor… Merlin knew how much he hated magic and everyone who practiced it. Fernor had practically killed him after all. He also knew that he was the only other one besides Lord Haymor who had known where Ollic was planning to make his escape. But… He couldn't have… Surely not.

In the distance, Merlin vaguely heard Ollic still talking.

"Don't you see Emrys? Lord Haymor left 'signs', clumsy tracks in the woods or something of that sort I reason. So because of his _mistake_, my Chloe is _dead_!" Ollic's voice rose in pitch as he spoke, so by the time he got to the last word, he was practically shouting.

Merlin shook his head distractedly. That didn't make sense, how could clumsy tracks in the woods let anyone know that _Ollic_ was going to escape. No, whatever signs were placed that caught the Knights attention, had to have been intentional. Intentionally pointing to Ollic.

Merlin frowned, his suspicions of Fernor slowly increasing by the second.

Seemingly out of the blue, Merlin remembered Danen telling him that Lord Haymor had been poisoned a couple years back, and that they had thought they had found the culprit until he was poisoned a second time a couple months later.

Fernor was the only servant who had been working for Lord Haymor during both attempts. Merlin took a step back, placing both hands to either side of his head, wrinkling his face. So many different, seemingly random coincidences, were all beginning to add up.

'_Ok ok_,' He told himself, '_wait a minute, I can see that Fernor may hate sorcerers enough to betray Ollic to Uther, but what reason would he have to poison his own master?'_

Lord Haymor had tried to rescue Ollic, he reasoned to himself, and in a way he had succeeded. If Fernor hates sorcerers enough, surely he would hold a grudge against his master for aiding them.

But would that grudge be strong enough to motivate him to poison a master he had served for twenty years?

Merlin wasn't sure.

He also knew that there was one foolproof way to find out.

Merlin dashed for the door.

If Fernor truly had tried to poison Lord Haymor twice, Merlin had no doubt that he would try a third time, and if that were the case he would probably still have the poison he had used in both previous attempts in his possession.

So caught up in his thoughts was he, that he scarcely heard Ollic's exclamation of surprise at his abrupt behavior.

"Emrys! What are you-"

Merlin never heard the end of his sentence however, for he was already out the door and rushing down the hall to the servant's chambers.

….

Merlin burst into the room, casting his gaze about left and right for where Fernor might store the poison.

His eyes lighted on a metal chest under Fernor's bed, and he started towards it, suddenly cautious.

He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, speeding his heartbeat. His lips twisted. He had begun to like the feeling.

Casting his gaze around a little belatedly to make sure the room was empty, Merlin squatted down beside Fernor's bed and quietly pulled the chest out.

As he had expected it was firmly locked, yet he wasn't concerned, for with a flash of his eyes the chest easily clicked open.

Merlin's heart gave a twist of pity as he saw its contents.

The chest was filled with dust covered keepsakes, nothing odd about that, Merlin assumed, for this man as evil as he might be, had to own something other then vials of deadly liquid. No, it wasn't that he owned keepsakes that made Merlin stop, it was the nature of them.

For to one side of the chest, lay a very old looking elegant white dress, and in its folds lay a very beautiful, if simple, ring.

Merlin looked at them thoughtfully. He knew Fernor wasn't married, wasn't even interested in anyone as far as he knew.

As his gaze shifted to the other side of the chest realization dawned on him. At the other side lay pictures.

All of them displayed a much younger, happier looking Fernor and in all of them a small dark haired woman was grinning at him lovingly.

Merlin stared at Fernor's face, fascinated. He had never seen him look so… innocent. He shook himself out of his stupor. He had opened this chest to do more then rummage through Fernor's past.

He gently pushed aside some of the treasured pictures, trying not to pay too much attention to them. He respected Fernor's privacy.

Brushing aside a small wooden carving, Merlin finally found what he had been looking for. He bit his lip sadly.

Deep down, in the far left hand corner of the chest, lay a small bottle of hemlock. Staring at the bottle Merlin shuddered, painful memories awoken.

Slowly he reached his hand in and pulled it out. This was all the proof he needed. Fernor was truly evil, there was no way to get around that now. He just didn't know why that made him feel so sad.

So engrossed in his thoughts was he, that he didn't notice the slight creak of the door slowly opening. His gaze shifted back to the young, happy pictures of Fernor, and he wondered how he could have fallen so far.

A shadow fell across the chest.

Merlin started, quickly moving to spin around and stand up, but he was too late.

A rough hand grasped his throat, hauling him away from the chest and tossing him into the far wall.

Merlin's hands clenched protectively around the bottle as he felt himself hit the ground, knowing it was the only proof he had against Fernor.

He stumbled to his feet and with a heavy heart looked his attacker in the eye. Unlike the pictures that had so fascinated him, this mans face held no trace of happiness or innocence. Fernor's face only beheld hatred and rage. Merlin felt as if he were reliving his previous run-in with him, only this time no doubt remained in his mind as to whether this man would kill him or not.

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw the open door not four meters away. He knew that if he could get out and tell Lord Haymor what Fernor had done, he might just be able to solve this ghastly quandary he had landed himself in.

Fernor started advancing upon him, a bitter smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"So, the sorcerer scum decided to waggle his filthy hands into my business," Fernor said almost calmly, widely extending his arms out beside him in a careless fashion, though the hate and venom in his voice belied the effect. His eyes strayed to the bottle in Merlin's firmly clasped hand.

"And his filthy hands touched stuff that were meant to be left alone," The smile left his face, leaving it cold and determined. Merlin, who had begun to start quietly edging towards the door, felt himself involuntarily shiver at Fernor's expression. It was a heartless, hopeless look, that not only terrified Merlin, it made his heart give a twinge of sympathy as well.

Merlin inwardly scolded the renegade organ for its softness, but could not help wondering what had caused this poor man to sink so low. Like always, once the question was in his mind, it was on its way out his mouth.

"Why are you doing this Fernor?" Merlin asked, desperation clear in his voice, but also an irrepressible curiosity. "Why do you hate me _so_ much? What have I done? Whatever it was, I didn't mean to make you angry or offend you."

As he was speaking, Merlin quickened his shuffle towards the door, but Fernor sensed what he was doing and moved to bodily block him.

"Then you should have thought of that before you started getting intertwined in the Black Arts boy," Fernor spat, his loathing for the practice glinting in his eyes, "Sorcerers, you who study things that are hidden and meant to be left in the dark, twisting it to your own purposes, and destroying any who would tell you it's wrong!" Fernor shook his head in disgust.

"Is that what happened to your wife?" Merlin asked unthinkingly, finally getting an inkling as to Fernor's hatred of magic, and could have bitten off his own tongue.

Fernor took a step back, and his face twisted in outrage.

Apparently so.

'_Why can't you ever keep your mouth shut?'_ Merlin asked himself, resignedly. He knew Fernor was about to attack him, and that thought didn't scare him. He had already been through more then his share of battles in his life, and he was confident that he could evade him. Then of course there was his magic.

It was just that Merlin had a big heart, and he felt that he should try to reason with this man, give him one last chance before Merlin turned him in. He knew what it was like to lose someone you love.

Merlin sucked in his breath, in preparation to speak and open his heart up, but he never got the chance.

Fernor seemed to have decided that they were done talking and forcefully lunged at him, kicking out with his right foot as he did so.

Merlin gave a startled yelp and dove to the side, banging his elbow painfully on the corner of a low table in the process. Merlin turned the dive into a roll and managed, to his delight, to regain his footing simultaneously.

Fernor lunged again, but this time Merlin was ready, and skirted around him, awkwardly rubbing the sore spot on his elbow and throwing a lose punch at Fernor's nose.

He missed of course, but his confidence began to grow. He hardly needed magic! He was doing just fine on his own.

'_And to think that Arthur says I fight like a girl'_ Merlin thought indignantly, then his lips quirked, '_If only he could see me now!_'

Fernor lunged a third time, and Merlin cockily skipped lightly to the side- and totally missed the well-aimed punch thrown in the same movement.

Merlin's vision became speckled with red dots and he went sprawling. He had barely hit the floor before Fernor was on top of him again, viciously kicking him in the ribs and chest, causing Merlin to writhe on the floor helplessly.

Merlin weakly lifted his hands to defend himself, but knew that the gesture was hopeless.

"My wife died because of a sorcerer!" Fernor screamed breathlessly at him between kicks, working himself up.

"I will make you pay for what they did to her!" From the table beside them, Fernor grabbed a vase of Danens, and drew his hand back to smash Merlin upside the head with it.

At that moment something inside Merlin snapped back into place. Enough was enough.

He felt his eyes grow warm as they flashed gold, and Fernor went flying backwards into the wall Merlin had crashed into moments before.

The crash just shocked Fernor however, and he was back on his feet within seconds, boiling with rage.

Merlin didn't waste a moment. As Fernor went flying, Merlin staggered to his feet and threw himself through the door, grabbing the edge of it and hurtling it closed behind him.

Instinctively Merlin's eyes shown gold and the door locked behind him, but Merlin was already on his way towards the guardroom, where he knew Lord Haymor had a meeting scheduled and so he hardly noticed. What he did notice was Fernor savagely throwing himself at the door and the large crash as it snapped beneath his weight.

Merlin's sides ached painfully where Fernor had kicked him, but he determinedly pushed himself onward, still clutching the small vial of hemlock in his hands.

Behind him, he heard Fernor's rapid footsteps getting louder, and he knew that he would be overtaken within moments unless he hurried.

He was approaching a staircase leading downward and quickly jumped down them, stumbling and tripping clumsily as he went. The guardroom was close. He was almost there.

He tripped down the last three steps of the stairway and landed painfully on his face at the bottom.

Merlin could hear Fernor bounding down the steps above him, and frightened, he drug himself to his feet, forcing himself to continue.

He skirted around one corner, then another. The large guardroom door was just in sight, and with renewed effort Merlin sprinted towards it, hope springing to life in his chest.

He threw himself against the door and fumbled with the latch, his hands clumsy with the rush of adrenaline surging through him.

He had just managed to push it open when Fernor latched onto his forearm, unavoidably pinching his sore elbow, and causing Merlin to jump. They both went tumbling inside, barely keeping their feet.

By the time Merlin was able to pry himself loose of Fernor's vicious grasp and look up, he had the entire rooms attention. They were in a large, circular room with tall windows and a bench running along the walls. Soldiers sat sprawled out on the bench, and a few of the higher ranking officers were talking amongst themselves at a large table in the center of the room.

Lord Haymor sat among them, studying a map of the surrounding countries. Or at least he had been. Now he was looking very curiously at Merlin's face, and with no little amount of exasperation or annoyance. Yet the cuts and bruises blotching Merlin's face did not escape his notice.

Beside him, to Merlin's relief, sat Cal who was looking amused as always. Merlin was beginning to suspect that the Captain's constantly cheerful persona was just a shield, built up over the years to protect himself and hide his emotions. He didn't have time to dwell on that now however. He had a job to do.

Merlin stepped forward, lifting the bottle up for all to see. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Emrys," Lord Haymor said interrupting him, and paling at the sight of the bottle, "Where did you get that?" Lord Haymor knew that the poison used against him for both attempts of his life was hemlock.

Merlin lifted his finger to explain, and was interrupted once more.

"My Lord!" Fernor cried, grabbing the vial from Merlin's grasp and immediately becoming distraught, "Do not let this boy speak! For all he knows to say are lies!"

Merlin stared at Fernor evenly. He knew that Fernor felt as if he were backed into a corner, and in a way he was. The only option Fernor felt was available to him now was to bluff his way through this.

Merlin shook his head, and turned back to Lord Haymor, who was looking quite confused.

"My Lord," Merlin said, a bit louder then he had intended, "I need to speak to you," then added, glancing at Fernor, "alone."

Haymor never got the chance to respond however, for Fernor lifted the vial high and announced in an accusing voice, "Not ten minutes ago, I beheld Emrys pouring this into My Lords evening meal!"

"What?" Lord Haymor demanded, immediately standing up and causing his chair to go falling backwards onto the floor. His eyes moved from Merlin to Fernor then back again.

"What?" Merlin echoed disbelievingly, his eyes wide, "No! No My Lord, he's lying!"

"Lord Haymor, I know that you are fond of this boy," Fernor said loudly stepping forward and pointing his finger at Merlin, "but you must know that he has been lying to you from the beginning! He is not who he says he is!"

Fernor turned on Merlin, a malevolent glee in his eyes as Lord Haymor's eyebrows snapped down.

Merlin felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he had the evidence against Fernor, so he had thought that it would be easy to convince Haymor of Fernor's nature.

But he wasn't the only one with potentially fatal information, and he didn't have twenty years of service to back him up.

For the first time, Merlin thought that maybe he wouldn't make it through this fight alive, for Fernor knew that he was drowning, and he had decided to drag Merlin down with him.

Merlin shook his head franticly, angrily denying the accusation.

"That's not true!" Merlin protested, looking Lord Haymor in the eye and throwing a quick look at Cal. "Fernor was the one with the poison not me! He has already poisoned you twice and is going to do it a third-"

"Lies!" Fernor interrupted with a condescending laugh, knowing that acting nervous would give him away. "Listen to him My Lord. The moment I reveal to you his true nature, he tries to blame his crimes on me!" Fernor stared at the aghast Merlin, a sardonic smile playing about the corners of him mouth, "But I suppose we can't really blame him, after all, he is only trying to save his own skin. For not only My Lord has he tried to poison you, he is the one responsible for the mysterious destruction of our wagons, the ones that were blown up a week ago!"

At that, the room erupted into chaos. The soldiers in the room stood up and drew their swords, but were unsure as to who to point them at, as each of them had different opinions on who was telling the truth. Fernor wasn't a favorite servant, in fact no one really liked him, but he had lived in the castle for twenty years so some of these people knew him.

While Merlin was just a stranger.

Over the noise, Fernor started shouting venomously, "He is a Sorcerer! He blew up the wagons with magic! I saw him! I saw him! He is here to kill us all! To kill the King! And he was going to start by poisoning Lord Haymor!"

"I would never poison anybody!" Merlin shouted back desperately, then felt a twinge of guilt. He had poisoned someone. He had poisoned his friend. Merlin closed his eyes, shoving back the nauseating wave of guilt that had been awoken inside him. That plus the noise in the room was beginning to make him feel dizzy.

He turned to Lord Haymor, "Please," He said quietly, knowing that he couldn't hear him but getting his point across with the look on his face, "please, you must believe me!"

Lord Haymor frowned. It was true that he had always liked the boy, but he had always known that there was something not quite right about him. Now he was being accused of treason and attempted murder.

"Now that is just insulting," a voice stated cynically, sounding bizarrely quiet in a room filled with men in shouting matches. That fact alone was enough to cause everyone to stop talking, and the fact that the voice belonged to their captain didn't hurt anything.

Cal smirked.

He was leaning back against a wall, one leg crossed over the other in a relaxed gesture. He lazily motioned at Merlin and raised his eyebrows.

"Can any of you really believe that this idiot could get past my men? Could get past you? I don't think so, and the thought of him being a sorcerer is just ridiculous to say the least. I mean, _look_ at him. Fernor must be mistaken." Cal said with a condescending shake of the head at Merlin.

"I am not!" Fernor yelled angrily, but nobody seemed to be paying much attention to him now. Everyone seemed to hold Cal's opinion very highly.

Some of the men had started nodding their heads in agreement, and one or two chuckled at the idea that Merlin could have destroyed their armies food supply, which now seemed absurd now that their captain had mentioned it.

Merlin stared at them disbelievingly. _'What is so funny about the thought of me being a sorcerer?'_ Merlin thought indignantly, then shrugged the thought away. At least he was still alive. Maybe he would make it out of this after all.

"No! No, he did blow them up! He threw his shoe to create a diversion and while no one was looking he set the wagons on fire!" Fernor said angrily, glaring at Cal.

That got Lord Haymor's attention. He turned to Merlin, a troubled look on his face.

"I do recall that you lost your shoe," He said unhappily, doubt obviously beginning to worm its way into his mind.

"I lost it in the mud and later a dog carried it off." Merlin said, knowing the flaw in his logic even as he said it.

"And yet you have it now," Lord Haymor said thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed. Merlin shifted uncomfortably, his hopes slowly beginning to sink.

"I, uh, got it back," Merlin said lamely, the suspicious looks the soldiers now threw his way not escaping his notice.

Fernor grinned triumphantly.

"You see My Lord? He is nothing but a liar! And not even a very good one at that." Fernor smiled maliciously at Merlin's pale face. He stepped closer to Lord Haymor and said in a low voice, "He tried to kill you My Lord, he needs to be executed."

Lord Haymor looked at the ground and then with a sigh slowly closed his eyes.

The entire room waited in silence, waiting for his decision. Lord Haymor looked up, his eyes sad, and said quietly, "Arrest him."

The soldiers hesitated, not sure who he meant.

"Lord Haymor?" a higher ranking soldier asked hesitantly.

"Emrys," Lord Haymor said wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "arrest Emrys."

The men nodded in understanding and stepped forward, a soldier grabbing each arm and one pointing a sword point into his back.

Merlin felt the urge to shrink back and run, but he knew that doing that would be as good as admitting his guilt and Fernor would never be seen for what he was until it was too late. So he stayed still, gazing steadily at Lord Haymor as he began to list the charges against him.

"You, Emrys, are guilty of high treason, and attempted murder. The only punishment suitable for these crimes is death." Lord Haymor said heavily, then added softly, "I had thought that I was a better judge of character then that."

Merlin shook his head, and felt a lump rising in his throat. He violently pushed it back, clearing his throat.

"I didn't do it!" Merlin whispered, "I would never try to poison you! I tell you Haymor it was-"

He was cut off as he felt a searing pain cut into him, running from his shoulder to his lower back. He screamed and his knees buckled, causing him to remain upright only by the guard's harsh holds on his arms.

Merlin gasped, and felt a warm liquid soaking the back of his shirt.

"How dare you address Lord Haymor in that fashion!" The guard behind him sneered, "It is _Lord _Haymor to you boy!"

Merlin gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain.

"Put the whip down Sergeant." An angry voice said quietly from beside him.

Through the haze, Merlin blearily tried to open his eyes, wanting to see his rescuer. His eyelids felt as if they had lead weights attached to the ends of them however, and he knew that he was beginning to loose consciousness.

By sheer willpower he managed to force his eyes open, wincing as the light sent daggers into them.

Cal stood right next to him, his hand locked on the wrist of the man who had struck at Merlin with the whip.

"But Sir," The man started to protest, but was cut off as his wrist was violently twisted clockwise, causing him to double over with his arm twisted behind his back.

"I said put, it, down," Cal said dangerously quiet. He wasn't just angry, he was livid.

The whip dropped to the floor.

"Good!" Cal said cheerfully, letting go of the mans wrist and dropping him gracelessly on the floor, "Finally someone with some sense!"

Merlin stared at him, and began to shake his head at Cal's loose-canon behavior, but realized it was a mistake as he felt a wave of nausea hit him. He squeezed his eye shut, and bent his head until it had subsided. '_So I was right_,' a small part of his brain that should have been doing something useful thought, '_Cal's cheerfulness is a mask_.'

"Get the physician!" Merlin heard Lord Haymor order, and his heart warmed as he heard the concern in his voice.

"But My Lord!" Fernor objected, his voice having a hint of anger in it, "Why? He is going to die anyway, why bother? I mean, he tried to poison you!"

Lord Haymor opened his mouth to sharply rebuke Fernor for his heartlessness but was cut short as Merlin's desperate voice gasped out, "Lord Haymor got poisoned twice before I even _got_ here!" Even in the barely audible voice, Merlin's exasperation was clear.

Lord Haymor frowned. Emrys had a point.

He turned on Fernor, a probing look in his eyes, "He is right Fernor, Emrys wasn't even in Cendred's Kingdom a couple months ago, so who poisoned me then?"

Fernor floundered, and shook his head, whether in anger or in confusion was anyone's guess, "I don't know My Lord!" Fernor said with a slightly rough edge, "All I know is that I saw Emrys poisoning your food just about a half hour ago!"

"Yes…" Cal interjected slowly, "You have seen quite a lot of things, haven't you Fernor?"

Fernor looked at the Captain cautiously, some sixth sense warning him that he was on dangerous ground, "Well yes, I suppose."

Cal grinned disarmingly at him, and casually stepped around Merlin so he stood closer to him. "I mean, not only have you seen him try to poison your master, you stood by and watched as he blew up our army's food supply!" Cal shook his head, looking impressed, but then the look faded, as if he were just noticing something, "Wait… you stood by, while he just blew up our army's food? You didn't try to stop him? You didn't tell anyone?" Cal shook his head, clicking his tongue in the process, "You know, that could be a very serious crime."

Fernor's eyes narrowed in anger. This man was really beginning to get on his nerves.

"I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure," Fernor finally said irritably.

Cal's eyebrows soared, "Wasn't sure? You have just accused Emrys of treason, and you aren't _sure_?"

Fernor's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. Not sure what else to say he turned to Lord Haymor.

"My Lord," Fernor said stiffly, "are you going to allow me to be treated like this?"

Lord Haymor was looking at him intently now, "Yes," he said slowly, "I will. Now answer his questions."

Fernor looked uncomfortable, and just shrugged.

Cal began pacing the room, back and forth in front of Fernor, as if he were interrogating him. "So you saw him blow up the wagons…" Cal said slowly, then added, "and you saw him add poison to Lord Haymor's meal?" As Cal asked this last question he stopped pacing, and looked Fernor in the eye.

Fernor stared back unblinkingly. "I did."

Cal grinned, "Well then, that's terrific! As I recall, Emrys claims that he didn't add any poison, but I am sure that if he is asked to eat from the same plate he poisoned, he won't be so adamant." Cal smiled, happy with his decision. Out of the corner of his eye, Cal saw Merlin's shoulders slump in relief, while he could distinctly see Fernor stiffen.

At that moment, Ollic came bursting into the room. It took him only a glance at Merlin's torn back for his face to become clouded with concern.

"Emrys…" Ollic said aghast, "What have you done?"

Merlin gave him a watery smile, "Oh, you know, just making a fool of myself. Nothing new."

Making shooing motions at the guards, Ollic squatted down next to him and lifted his shirt up. Merlin winced but kept quiet. Ollic whistled quietly when he saw the state of Merlin's back.

The narrow gash spread from the top of his left shoulder all the way to the middle of his lower back. Blood was still pouring from it freely.

Ollic looked at the men in the room in horror, "What happened?"

Nobody met his gaze. Sensing that he was going to get no answer, Ollic began to poke and prod and Merlin's back.

"Ow!" Merlin whined, then got rapped on the knuckles.

"Oh hush," The physician said, the smile that was not on his face in his voice.

Quietly, Haymor signaled for a servant to bring his apparently poisoned plate of food. The servant nodded and hurried out.

The room watched in fancinated silence as Ollic closed his eyes, and began chanting under his breath, fingers wide spread over Merlin's bloody back.

Merlin's back began to itch horribly, and it took all of his will power not claw at it. Keeping himself still, he forced himself to start counting- a practice that had always helped him in the past- to take his mind off the ghastly itching.

'_One, two_,' Merlin began, then bit his lip hard as the itching increased.

Ollic began to chant louder and faster, and slowly, the itching faded into a dull throb. Merlin gave a sigh of relief and rotated his shoulders.

Ollic's hand dropped from the air above Merlin's back, and he stopped chanting. Breathing heavily, Ollic stated matter-of-factly, "That's all that I can do for you now, I will be able to heal the rest later." Then he added with a slight smile, "You have got to be the most accident prone person I have ever met!"

Merlin gave him his best idiotic grin, "It's an occupational hazard." He said with a shrug.

Ollic rolled his eyes, tousling Merlin's unruly hair.

"You're welcome," Ollic said in mock annoyance, standing up.

The door creaked, and the servant entered with the plate of food. The tension in the room was almost tangible as the servant handed the plate to Haymor.

"Will that be all My Lord?" the servant asked meekly.

Lord Haymor nodded, and the servant quickly scuttled out, unwilling to remain in the room any longer then necessary.

The servant wasn't the only one who seemed to notice the tension, as Ollic frowned, looking from one face to another.

Cal held out his hand for the food then turned to Merlin, a well hidden smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "So, _Emrys_, Fernor claims that he saw you contaminating this dish with hemlock. Is that true?"

Merlin shook his head, hiding a grin of his own, "Nope, it is not."

Cal looked at him in mock surprise, "Really? Then you will not mind if I ask you to eat it?"

Merlin grinned at the room, tactfully ignoring Fernor's hateful glare. Reaching towards the plate, Merlin plucked off a thin, glossy sliver of ham, and popped it into his mouth. He swallowed loudly, and the room waited in anxious anticipation. Seconds slowly ticked past. Nothing happened.

Fernor's face had turned a dreadful shade of red, and his jaw was sticking out and locked. Under any other circumstances, he would have looked quite comical. But not today.

Lord Haymor turned on him, a hurt, betrayed look on his face, "All these years I have trusted you, paid you, looked out for you, and this is how you repay me?"

Fernor shook his head once, in a stubborn gesture, "This proves nothing, My Lor- "

"This proves everything!" Lord Haymor shouted angrily stepping closer to him, then said with an upset shake of his head, "What happened to you Fernor? Why did you have do it? Why?"

Fernor met his gaze unflinchingly. And unremorsefully.

"Why?" Lord Haymor asked again, his voice almost a whisper.

Fernor's lips twitched into a bitter smile, "Because I hate you." He said, the look on his eyes leaving no room for doubt.

Lord Haymor stepped back, recoiling as if he had been slapped. The look on his face tore at Merlin's heart. This conversation was practically playing out his worst nightmare, a nightmare of Arthur's reaction to his secret, his crime, his gift.

Lord Haymor's face then set into a determined line. "So be it," he said, lifting his head. He motioned at the guards, "Arrest him," he said roughly, but not roughly enough to hide the crack in his voice.

The soldiers had no trouble discerning who he was talking about now. Much like they had done to Merlin, two grabbed his arms and one pointed his sword into Fernor's back.

"Take him away," Haymor said wearily, not wanting to have to look at his servants face any longer. The guards nodded and began to drag Fernor out. As they began to move, Fernor suddenly got violent, and began to thrash and wiggle and worm, but to no avail. As they passed by Merlin, Fernor leaned forward and spat in his face.

"This is your fault, _sorcerer_!" Fernor screamed at him, "It is because of you and your kind that my wife is dead! It is because of you that I am being sentenced to death! I hope that you will remember that, and I hope that your guilty conscience with drive you to the grave!"

Merlin shuddered as Fernor was dragged out of the guardroom.

His shouts echoed down the hall to them, and hours later, Merlin would wonder if he could still hear them.

Cal walked up to him, and said as if he were just realizing it, "Well Emrys, considering your accuser turned out to be a complete…" Cal threw a quick glance at Lord Haymor and changed his mind on whatever he was going to say, "a very bad person, I think that we can drop all charges laid on you. Wouldn't you agree Haymor?"

Lord Haymor looked up distractedly, "What? Oh, yes. Yes, of course Emrys, sorry."

Lord Haymor rubbed his face, and sighed.

"I think that I will just turn in for the night," He said sadly, then with a slight incline of the head at Cal, Lord Haymor walked with a heavy heart, out of the room.

Cal watched him go sadly. For a second, Merlin could see him without his sarcastic mask, and he realized that Cal now looked far more genuine. Then the moment was gone, and the smirk was back on Cal's face.

"I do think that it is safe to say that you owe me." Cal said to Merlin with a smile, his eyebrows raised. He didn't give him a chance to answer however, for with a mocking salute, he turned and began to walk out the door.

"Cal," Merlin said before he could leave, and as the Captain looked back at him, Merlin noticed that the mask was already beginning to slip, "Thank you."

Cal smiled, and the smile was genuine, "Your welcome." He said, with a twinge of sadness. Then he was gone.

Ollic slapped him on the forearm.

"Ow!" Merlin yelped, then looked at him exasperated, "What?"

"You never told me 'thank you'," Ollic said disapprovingly, but the twinkle in his eye belied the effect, "Physicians never get any praise or thanks you know. We save someones life and we rarely even get a 'Well done!'"

Merlin shrugged teasingly, "I guess it is just an occupational hazard of yours," He said in mock sympathy.

Ollic twacked his arm.

"Ow!" He whined.

Ollic shook his head in exasperation.

The smile slowly faded from Merlin's face as he remembered that Ollic didn't know the truth about Chloe's death. He didn't know that it was Fernor's fault, because he had turned them into Uther.

Merlin sighed. He had hoped that he could be done with the intense conversations for today. He slowly turned to Ollic.

"We need to talk."

…

_The Great dragon soared down from the sky above her, its mouth alight with flame. Morgana couldn't move, she was too scared, and she already knew that she wouldn't make it in time. She was going to die._

Morgana sat up gasping, her fingers clutching at her sheets. It was still dark, the moon was shining through the crack between the two curtains, casting a silver snake on her floor.

She waited for her breathing to subside, but it never did.

It was the same dream, the dream she had had every night for a week now. She choked back a sob. She did not want to die.

…..

The Black stones of Cendred's castle shone dully in the moonlight. From Arthur's view in the woods, it looked even less inviting then the first time.

He smiled at his remaining Knights. Tomorrow night would be the night. Tomorrow, they would kill the sorcerer.

…

**Author's Note: Ok, so the next chapter should be up pretty soon… no, really. It is finally starting to get into the actually storyline now, no more random rabbit trails, so I am getting excited! **

**Thank you sooo much to everyone and I mean EVERYONE, who has stayed with us this long, whether you reviewed or not, it just means a lot to us! **

**But very very special thanks toooo**: **Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, Merlin Fan, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, and Micro Chibi Baka San, Ringo's imaginarycat, TaintedXIllusion, 104Arianna, Imperial Mint**, **Teenmuggle, Arbitrary9, Klester1987, Sydelle Rein, and DragonGem777! **

**Love you all!**

**Cheers!**

**TTTs**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: *places hand to chest and sings from the heart Christmas Carols* All I want for Christmas is my own Mer-lin, my own Mer-lin, my own Mer- Owwww! *Stares at trusty accomplice* what did I do this time? **

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! I tried to get this chapter up and out extra fast, but it didn't quite turn out that way. **

**I am actually trying my own pathetic attempt at some humor in this chapter, mainly because this will be the last opportunity for it and I wanted to get it in here.**

**Well thank you very much for reading! And as always, have an amazing day!**

**Cheers!**

**Chapter 10**

The moon was still high in the sky as Cal tossed in his sleep. He was restless and his eyeballs darted back and forth beneath their lids. His breathing was ragged, and he cried out in his sleep. His mind was confused and he was haunted by swarming, twisting visions, of a sort he had not seen for years.

_He was in a battle, a bloody pointless battle. Men were screaming and dying, their comrades unable to drag them to safety. Fire was everywhere, and smoke burned in his lungs. He felt himself slip as his foot landed in a mixture of mud and blood._

_It was a trick, there was no reason for all of this. The entire affair reeked of an evil, a darkness lurking in the background, controlling it all. _

_But there was hope. _

_In his blotted, convoluted dream, he could sense it. Two lights, shining through the darkness, making it go away. The lights got brighter, and the darkness retreated a little further. _

_Cal felt a hope rise in his heart. They were all going to be ok. It wouldn't last forever._

_The two lights continued to shine until the darkness was pushed back, just to the edges of Cal's vision. He felt a cheer of triumph rising in his throat, for they had won! But the shout faded and died in his throat before it had even begun. For out of the darkness, a blacker evil rose, a shadow. The shadow extinguished the two lights, running them off beaten and broken. The hope was gone._

_It would all end in tragedy. _

_The scene shifted, and Cal saw men, woman, and children, all going about their daily business, oblivious to the shadow that had been born in the battle, unaware to the fact that it was coming, and soon. No one saw it, no one stood in its way. _

_Well all except one. _

_Cal saw a skinny, black haired boy in a field, his eyes glaring defiance at the approaching darkness. _

_Slowly, the light began to shine again, but it was weak, and unready. The shadow collided with the lone boy, and the scene shifted, then broke. _

Cal's eyes snapped open, his right hand grabbing for the knife lying under his pillow and sitting up in one smooth motion.

His room was quiet and still, the moon shining peacefully through the window.

The knife slipped from his hand and clattered uselessly to the floor as Cal clutched at his throbbing head.

He hadn't had a nightmare in ages, and he had begun to think that maybe they would no longer plague him. Why was he having them now? Something big was about to happen, he had known that for a while now, but maybe whatever was coming would be even bigger then he had expected.

He squinted his eyes. That was a disturbing thought, for he had been anticipating the worst. Cal didn't know how much the world could take.

He stared at the ceiling, and gave a shaky sigh, trying to calm himself down. Whatever happened, he knew that he would more then likely live, and have to keep on going. That's what he had been doing his entire life.

His gaze slipped from the ceiling, shifting to the window, and he thought of Merlin. He was the boy standing in the field, of that Cal was sure. He was going to go through a lot here soon, and in the end Cal wasn't sure if he would make it out alive. He knew with surprising certainty, that he wanted to be there for Merlin when the shadow hit. He had grown to actually quite like the boy and was not about to let him face it alone.

Cal combed his fingers through his mess of blonde hair and yawned.

It was late, and he was beyond exhausted. He remembered how nightmares had always done that to him.

He would have to talk to Merlin tomorrow.

With a weary sigh, he fell back onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

He could worry about the end of the world in the morning.

...

Dawns early rays shone through the leafy canopy above them, casting playful shadows over Arthur and his Knights.

The cheerful atmosphere of the forest conflicted with the mood of the men, who were thoughtful and serious. They had a job to do, and were at odds on the best way to accomplish it.

"All I am saying," Sir Kay said irritably, "Is that we can't just go barging through their front door! We need to think this through slowly, and logically."

Several of the Knights had to hold back eye rolls, as they were in the presence of their prince.

"That is a very logical sentiment Sir Kay," Sir Borch, a pompous looking Knight said mockingly, contempt dripping from his voice, and a few of the Knights held back laughs, "And if this were normal circumstances, know that your flawless logic would be well heeded. But now we have no time to sit back, _thinking_, as much as you may want to, not when a sorcerer is threatening our homes and families."

A few of the Knights nodded their agreement.

Arthur was leaning back against a tree, deep in thought.

Both of his Knights had valid points, but he thought that Sir Borch was being a little harsh.

They had been at it for almost an hour now, and Arthur knew that they had to decide on a strategy soon, or they would run out of time.

The problem was, they didn't know where Emrys lived, or even what he looked like, and so the first course of action had to be finding him, and fast. Arthur had been growing progressively more anxious, for some sixth sense was warning him that he was running out of time. They had to kill the sorcerer tonight, with the darkness to cover them.

That meant they had to find Emrys before nightfall. Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He knew the best course of action available, the _only_ course of action, and as dangerous as it might be, he knew he had to follow it.

He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. Knights never shied from danger.

"Men," Arthur said, in a voice that commanded their instant attention, "I have decided what we must do."

The Knights stared at his face in interest, trying to discern his decision from his expression. Most of his Knights were older then Arthur, by a good five years at the very least, but they had learned to trust him completely, and not just because of his title. Arthur had earned their respect time and time again, and they had absolute confidence in his good judgment and courage.

"The way I see it," Arthur said, putting on an air of confidence, for he knew that the Knights were hanging on his every word, "The only way to find where Emrys lives, is to ask."

Some of the Knights opened their mouths to respectfully object, but Arthur held up his hand and they silenced immediately.

"I will send those of you in who haven't been seen inside the kingdom before- That means Sir Norum, Sir Borch, and Sir Arphry. Two of you will ask around the town, and the other will snoop around the castle itself. I'm sorry," Arthur added, glancing at Allen and Kay, "We cannot enter the City until dark, as it would risk discovery, for I doubt that our previous enterprise will be quickly forgotten."

Sir Allen and Sir Kay inclined their heads, acknowledging the wisdom of the precaution.

"Borch, you and Arphry search the town, see what you can find," Arthur continued, then turned to Norum. He still wasn't sure if he should trust the man, not since he had reacted so calmly to being healed by magic. The other Knights, when they had seen the healing the dragon's breath had caused, they had been horrified and not a little angry. They had disagreed with him about not telling the king, and Arthur couldn't bring himself to order them not to.

Norum just didn't make sense. Yet for some indiscernible reason, Arthur just _knew _that he could count on him, that he wouldn't let him down. It was for that very reason he was giving this job to him.

"Norum, I want you to sneak into the castle, you won't have to get very far inside, just to the kitchens or someplace accommodating servants. They will gossip your ears off. But for gods sake be _careful_, I have already lost one man down here, and I don't wish to lose another." Arthur said seriously, looking Norum directly in the eye.

Sir Norum smiled and shook his head, "Don't worry about me Sire, I will make sure not to let the servants lop too much off of me."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. There it was again, that unexpected quality of humor. Arthur's lips quirked.

"If they do, I'll have to replace you." Arthur replied in a tone only Merlin would have been able to detect laugher in. Merlin knew him better then anyone, a sad fact, but a true one.

Norum, uncertain as to if Arthur was serious or not, did the safe thing, and inclined his head.

Arthur frowned. He hadn't realized he was joking.

Arthur shook his head, a slight sigh escaping his lips involuntarily. He missed Merlin, he missed the skinny idiot who would insult him back when he jibed at him, and he was ready to have him back.

That reminded him…

"Oh, and Norum," Arthur added, now entirely serious, though his knights didn't seem to notice the difference, "When you're in the castle, find the whereabouts of Lord Haymor's chambers- the Lord that Merlin said he is currently working for. Tonight, when we kill Emrys, we can grab my runaway manservant in the process."

…

Merlin stared out the window, his eyes looking past the castle, past the town, past the tree line, to the horizon in the far distance- in the direction of Camelot.

He was homesick.

Merlin had been in Cendred's Kingdom for a couple weeks now, but had gotten almost nowhere with his mission. He didn't know who Cendred was planning to attack, he just knew that the Kingdom was preparing for war. But they had known that in the beginning, and Merlin felt as if his time here had almost been an entire waste.

He was ready to go home, but he couldn't, not yet, not with a clear conscience. The future of Camelot rested on his shoulders.

He was just so lonely.

Behind him, Merlin heard the door swing open, and turned around surprised, knowing that Danen had kitchen duty today.

In walked a skinny, redheaded, speckle-faced boy, who was a few years younger then Merlin himself. The kid wore glasses, and had awkward wood chips sticking out between his crooked teeth, causing his mouth to always lull partly open.

Merlin found them mesmerizing, in a slightly weird, ugly way.

"Who are you?" A whining voice demanded from the crooked teeth.

"Uhh," Merlin said, more then a little confused, "I'm Emrys." Merlin managed to put a grin on his face- This kid couldn't help what he looked like.

At the redheads expressionless face, Merlin elaborated, "I'm Lord Haymor's servant." The kid nodded, and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Oh, yeah you," He said carelessly, now forgetting Merlin and looking down his nose at the room, "This is it?" he sulked indignantly, "I had thought the accommodations would be finer."

Merlin's eyebrows rose, and he rubbed the back of his head, tousling his hair. "Yeah, well, they're not that bad really. I have actually grown to quite like them." Merlin smiled at the youth, but the redhead didn't smile back.

The boy began walking around the room, and rummaged through the papers on the desk.

"Uh," Merlin began, rather nonplussed, "So, is there something I can do for you?" The teen didn't answer, but moved toward a bookshelf and managed to spill ink all over some of the notes on the desk simultaneously.

The redhead frowned, staring at his ink stained hands with a look of inconvenience on his face.

Merlin tried to laugh.

"Oh that's ok," Merlin said, moving to pick the inkwell back up, "Those papers weren't that important anyway."

With an annoyed glance at the ink, the youth shrugged his shoulders and snoopily opened Danen's chest of belongings, pulling out his stuff.

Merlin hastily stepped forward.

"Uh, hey wait, that's my friends, you probably shouldn't…" Merlin broke off as the boy slammed Danen's chest shut, and began advancing towards his. Merlin frowned, and with a quick flash of his eyes, heard the chest click as it locked.

The redhead looked upset when he couldn't get it open. He stood up and continued wandering around the room, looking more and more dissatisfied.

"It's not much," The redhead said finally, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. Merlin shrugged, lifting his hands expressively with a smile, "I suppose not, but compared to what I'm used to, these chambers are fantastic!"

"Well, I am sure that the chambers are more then adequate for someone of your lowly standards," The boy said snootily, pulling at the woodchips jammed between his teeth, "But I had expected better from Lord Haymor. If I am to work for him, he will have to treat me far better then his other, average servants."

Merlin felt his face fall, and hurriedly stuck the grin back on into place.

This kid was going to live with them? Seriously?

Feeling as if the world was playing some kind of cruel joke on him, Merlin tried to act welcoming.

"Oh!" Merlin said smiling, "You're Fernors replacement! Sorry, I didn't know you would be coming in today." Stepping forward Merlin held his hand out to the short youth, who stared at it blankly. Merlin looked awkward, and slowly withdrew his hand.

"So," Merlin said experimently, rocking on the balls of his feet, "Yeah, I'm Emrys. What was your name again? Didn't quite catch it last time," Merlin said politely.

The boy gave him a scathing look- an impressive feat, considering he had his fingers stuck in his mouth.

"That's because I didn't say it," He said, looking down at the hand that was yanking at a woodchip.

'_What are those things anyway?' _Merlin thought, hiding the confused look on his face. This boy was just weird.

Merlin waited, seeing if the redhead would say anything further. He didn't.

The kid looked around the room, and his eyes lighted on Merlin's bed.

He moved towards it, his feet skidding on the stone floor.

"This is mine," the woodchip boy said, plopping heavily onto the bed with a sigh.

Merlin felt color rising into his cheeks. This was going a bit too far.

Some instinct told him that protesting wouldn't get him very far, so he was going to try a different tactic.

Merlin felt an easy smile slip onto his face as a devious idea formed in his head.

"Oh, that's a relief!" Merlin said with feeling, "I have been wanting to get rid of it for ages! Danen and Fernor assigned it to me, and I have been stuck with it ever since! I don't think that it is entirely natural… I think that it might be- diseased."

The smug look that had been growing on the boys face fell away. He looked at Merlin suspiciously.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" The boy demanded, his freckled face puckered and uncertain.

"Oh… don't worry, it's nothing _too _bad." Merlin said reassuringly, and his heart lifted with devious glee as the kids face filled with alarm.

"What is it?" The boy squeaked, his eyes wide, "What happens?"

Merlin noticed that the kid still hadn't jumped off the bed. At least he has some backbone in him, Merlin thought introspectively.

"Weeelll," Merlin drew it out, then lowered his voice, leaning forward on his toes, "The first time I slept in it, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling terrible, like there was something crawling up my throat…" Merlin paused, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like his best friend Will had always done when he was playing a joke on him.

It had the desired effect, as the boy stopped yanking on his woodchips, and his hands moved unwillingly to his neck.

"What was it?" He asked, forgetting to act demanding in his fright.

Merlin smiled. He was getting to the good part.

"Slimy, smelly, warty frogs!" Merlin exclaimed, and held back a grin at the strangled yelp the boy gave, leaping off the bed like he had been burned.

"Apparently the bed has some sort of curse on it," Merlin said with a shrug, then paused, troubled.

Since when had lies slipped so easily from his tongue?

Merlin stopped his teasing, a slightly sad look on his face. He had changed.

Merlin mentally promised himself that he would bite his tongue the next time he was inclined to lie, because it was becoming all too easy, and he was getting far too good at it.

The boy didn't seem to notice his change in demeanor though, and continued to brush himself off, poking and prodding at his throat, an aghast look on his face.

At that moment the door opened and Danen walked in, an apprehensive expression crinkling his features.

When his eyes lighted on the redhead standing by Merlin's bed, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

He shot Merlin an apologetic glance, silently letting him know that this wasn't his idea. Merlin smiled at him, and shook his head. The kid wasn't _that_ bad.

Danen shrugged. He obviously had his doubts.

"Well I see that you two have already met." Danen said, putting on a cheerful tone and smiling, then added at the redheaded youth, "So Bernard, what do you think of your new home?"

Bernard's panic seemed to have faded slightly, as he was no longer prodding at his throat. He stared at Danen, his face green.

"I think it's horrific." He said simply, glaring at Merlin's bed.

Danen's smile faltered.

"Oh," was all he could say, and shifted uncomfortably onto his other foot.

Merlin decided to intervene.

"I'm sure he will get used to it once he settles in," Merlin said optimistically, effectively shattering the slight awkwardness that was beginning to form.

Merlin turned towards the redhead.

"So your name is Bernard, hmmm can I call you Bernie? It kind of suits you," Merlin said with a grin.

Bernard stared at him in horror, "No," he said irritably, "my name is Bernard, and only Bernard… or didn't you hear correctly with your tiny brain?"

Merlin stared at the kid in confusion, wondering why everybody always seemed to assume that Merlin's intelligence was below average. He personally liked to think of himself as being borderline brilliant, and just slightly misunderstood.

"Um, well ok. If you don't like Bernie, I suppose Bernard is good too," Merlin said good-naturedly, doing his best to think well of the boy.

"You _suppose_ Bernard is good too?" The rude redhead asked gallingly, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but closed it when he realized he wasn't entirely sure what to say.

He had dealt with sorcerers and dragons and griffons and monsters, but Merlin found he wasn't completely certain on how to handle a rude little boy.

Considering that they were going to be living with one another, he didn't want to start their relationship on a low note- but at the same time he wasn't about to just stand around and be bullied either.

Danen came to his rescue.

"Bernard is a very nice name," Danen said in a placatory voice, walking further into the room and sitting down at his desk.

His smile morphed into a look of horror at the state of his desk.

"My love letters!" Danen exclaimed, appalled, staring at at least twenty ink-stained parchments. "What have you done to them! I was going to give them to her tonight!"

Bernard now looked amused- an unusual expression on his face.

"_All_ of them? Isn't that a little- odd?"

Danen stared at him, indignant.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm in love; I can give her as many letters as she wants!"

Bernard looked down his nose at him.

"I think I did her a favor," Bernie said, waving his hand carelessly, "No girl would want a guy who piles stacks of _paperwork_ outside her door- every single day. Most people get _paid_ to read that stuff. Trust me Danen, it's not a good way to start a relationship."

Danen was already franticly grabbing for a clean sheet of paper and rewriting what he could decipher.

"You don't understand Bernard, she _needs_ these. She has to understand how I feel! If I can't get these to her in time, she might fall for someone else!"

Bernard stared at him blandly.

"I see that I misspoke," Bernard said sardonically, "I granted her _two_ favors. Not only have I cut down on her mandatory reading, I have saved her from being hounded by a complete _imbecile_."

Danen glared at him, but didn't comment, and Merlin leaned back against the wall in exasperation, his head falling backward with a _thunk_, and considered for a moment actually creating an angry hoard of frogs to come leaping out of _Bernie's_ throat.

No, no, he couldn't do it, it just wasn't… right.

"Just face it Danen," Merlin heard Bernard continue on, "no matter how many stupid letters you write, you are never going to get your little beauty. You want to know why? Because no pretty lady in her right mind would fall for some mindless dope of a servant, who has no real ambitions in life, and can't think beyond his next meal!"

Merlin felt his blood rise into his face, and an angry knot twist in his stomach. That last comment went too far.

Danen's hand stopped writing and he looked up, a hurt, crestfallen expression on his face. Merlin squeezed his hands into fists, and as he stared at Bernard, his gaze drew the youths attention.

"Bernard," Merlin said softly, "that's enough."

Merlin said it quietly, with no hint of malice or anger in his voice, but something in his eyes made Bernard stop in his tracks and look a bit closer.

The blood drained from the redheads face, and he unconsciously took a couple steps back. He didn't know what he saw in Merlin's eyes, but he whatever it was, and however it got there, it was most certainly dangerous. Maybe not evil, but positively not something he wanted to cross anytime soon. Or ever.

With a quick sniff to regain his dignity, Bernie skittered as fast as he could pompously manage onto Fernor's former bed, and sat there, properly sedated.

As Bernie scampered away, Merlin felt a brief flash or confusion. What had he done? He knew he was angry, but most of the time he just got laughed at when he was upset. Yet, obviously, he had scared Bernie enough to make him back off, something Merlin suspected was not easily done. Maybe he was finally growing up.

Merlin bit the inside of his lip, feeling his eyes widen. That was a terrifying thought.

Growing up meant responsibility- and Merlin had enough of that as it was. He found he was perfectly happy with his lot in life, and the idea of having more duty thrust upon him as he got older was scary to say the least. He wasn't ready.

Yet he knew that it was his destiny, and whatever he did, he could not avoid it, and he could not escape it.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to.

With an almost indiscernible sigh, and a shake of the head, Merlin pushed himself off the wall and walked over to his bed. He didn't have anything else to do today until the banquet that evening, so he might as well try to relax.

Bernard watched the bed warily from the corner as Merlin hopped into it. His bed was soft and warm, but Merlin was restless, and for some reason he felt decidedly on edge. His

entire body was beginning to feel as it did right before a fight, and Merlin caught himself scanning the room for intruders on more then one occasion.

What was wrong with him?

He found that he couldn't lie still for more then a few moments, and soon gave up on resting all together.

The only sound in the room was the frantic scratching of Danen's quill on parchment.

Merlin threw his arm over his head and decided that he should probably say something, knowing that it wouldn't do well for them to leave their conversation hanging like this.

"Sooo," Merlin said uncomfortably grasping for a subject, "It is Princess Isabella's 13th birthday today, and King Cendred is throwing a banquet in his sister's honor."

Bernard glanced up sharply from the bed in the corner. What had happened to the young man with the terrifying eyes? Now he was just acting awkward.

Danen seemed relieved for a change of subject.

"Yeah," He said a smile in his voice within the space of a heartbeat, "I had heard about that, the entire castle is invited! Supposed to be quite a night."

"The best part is, we don't have to clean up afterwards," Merlin said in a happy tone. He was trying to cheer Danen up.

Bernard frowned. The power had now completely gone from the mans eyes, and he was beginning to think that maybe it had never been there at all. Emboldened by that thought, Bernard decided that it was safe to begin complaining again.

"Nobody has ever thrown me a party in _my_ honor." Bernie said sulkily, tugging at the woodchips wedged between his teeth.

Merlin lifted his head up and threw Danen a confused glance, asking him what they were for. Danen almost smiled and signaled that he would tell him later.

"I mean, with all I do for everyone, you would think that somebody would recognize all my hard work and dedication! Some people are just so ungrateful! If anyone deserves some fancy party, it's _me._"

Merlin rubbed the top of his head, causing his already wild hair to stick up in all different directions.

Surely one frog wouldn't be noticed… His lips quirked.

Merlin tried to dismiss such thoughts as ridiculous, and after a rather vicious inner battle almost entirely succeeded in stifling such notions.

Almost.

…..

"Halt!" A gruff voice called out, pointing his spear at Sir Norum's chest, "What is your business here?"

Sir Norum smiled easily at the guard at the gate, seemingly unfazed by the finely honed piece of metal pricking his unprotected chest.

He gestured towards himself and the two other Knights, now disguised as peasants, "Why my good sir, my companions and I have arrived at this great city of yours in search of work. For tales of its glory have stretched far and wide, and although we are poor, humble folk, we just knew that this was the Kingdom where we could make our living."

The guard glared at him. He didn't like Norum's attitude.

"Is that so?" He asked suspiciously, looking the other two men up and down, "Where do you hail from?"

Norum flashed the guard a disarming grin. He knew exactly what to say, as he and Prince Arthur had gone over it time and time again before the Prince had finally decided that his men were ready.

Arthur had truly been concerned for their welfare, and that thought turned Norum's grin a little more genuine.

"We hail from Mercia sir," Sir Norum lied without so much as batting an eyelash, "I was born there, and these two fellows moved in later, before that they lived with their parents, course we don't tell very many people that, as it is rather embarrassing. Like this one fellow I used to know, he was the laughing stock of the entire village for years until he finally left his parents house at the ancient age of 45! Can you believe it? 45? What was his name… oh, I will remember it later. Anyway thankfully these here chaps left a might earlier, but not by much if you get what I'm saying!" Norum roared with laugher, and slapped one of the other knights on the back.

Prince Arthur had told him that it was easier to get around if you acted like a simpleton- a fact that he said he had learned from a certain, nameless manservant.

He had been right.

The gate guard stepped a little closer, adding pressure to the spear at Norum's chest. To his disappointment, Norum didn't flinch. In fact, he did the opposite.

"Sir, if I may offer my humble advice as to your technique in handling that spear of yours," Norum said politely, "you may find it easier to control if you loosen your grip a little bit, clutching as you are makes it shake in a most unguardly fashion. Your hand must have blisters something awful…" He trailed off as the pressure increased to a dangerous level.

The guard stepped so close that Norum could smell his rancid breath, "Shut, up," the guard hissed.

Norum shrugged his shoulders, but ceased his ramblings.

The guard stepped back and surveyed the entire group, taking in their able-bodied appearance and toned muscles.

"Just what kind of job do you have?" The guard asked suspiciously.

"Well as I just said sir, we don't have a job yet…"

"What job _will_ you have?" The guard practically shouted.

Norum smirked. He was enjoying this.

"I'm a blacksmith sir," Norum tried to grin stupidly. Prince Arthur had told him he didn't pull it off very well.

Thankfully, this gate guard seemed to be a lot less discerning then his Prince. He bought the look.

Angrily, the guard asked, "And what if I told you that I don't believe you, what if I went and told all my superiors that I think you are an intruder and a fraud?"

Norum's grin didn't even waver.

He knew that this man was just blowing steam, and that the guard didn't actually believe that he had the mental capacity to be anything but a blacksmith.

He shrugged.

"Well then sir," Norum said simply, "I suppose that I would be marched to my death and be hung within the hour," He smiled brightly.

The guard's jaw jutted forward.

"Do you care nothing for your own life? I could kill you right now you brainless worm!" The gate guard was trying to make him angry, to trigger some sort of reaction out of the infuriatingly calm Sir Norum.

"Brainless worm? I should think not. My mother always told me that I was as smart as a bull, and twice as handsome!"

The gate guards face was turning a beautiful shade of red, and Norum was just young enough to genuinely think his expression funny, rather then intimidating.

He knew that a laugh would be pushing it at this point, and it took all of Norum's years of training to push back down the laugh that was tightening in his throat.

The guard watched his struggle for control through rapidly narrowing eyes.

"Let the poor fools in Sergeant," A slightly amused voice commanded from somewhere behind the gate.

Norum's head snapped in that direction. That voice. It couldn't be… was it him? Of course not, he was being ridiculous.

The guard looked over his shoulder, a rather upset expression on his face, and called into the gatehouse, "But Captain, surely you don't-" They heard a loud, convenient cough from the gatehouse, "err I mean, yes Sir."

Grudgingly the guard lowered his spear and stepped to the side, allowing the Knights to step through into Cendred's Kingdom.

As the undercover Knights entered, Norum's eyes strayed to the gatehouse door, and hoped beyond hope that he might be able to see the occupant inside. He told himself that he was just doing wishful thinking, that it was immature of him to distract himself when their mission was so important.

The door was slightly ajar, and Norum leaned as far as he could without acting suspicious, trying to peer through the crack. The room inside the gatehouse was dark, lit only by a candle and the sunlight streaming in through the small gap between the door and the frame.

He saw a shadow move in the opening, then his horse carried him forward, and his chance at seeing the man was lost. He was taken beyond the gate, beyond the door, and beyond the man inside.

…

The people in Cendred's Kingdom were rude, and unhelpful.

Sir Borch and Sir Arphry left Norum at the town square, and then preceded to ask person after person, man after man, child after child, if they knew or had ever heard of, a man named Emrys.

Most of them simply gave them the cold shoulder and continued walking, while some curtly replied that they had never heard the word, and even if they had, they probably wouldn't admit it to the likes of them.

Only a handful admitted that they recognized the name, but weren't sure where the man lived.

The streets were narrow and dirty, while the alleys were even more so. By the time the sun hit it's zenith in the bright sky, Sir Borch and Sir Arphry were exhausted and irritable.

They were tired of these closed mouthed people, and they were unused to being treated as commoners.

Sir Borch felt that if he got pushed or shoved one more time, some poor soul would be faced with his gauntlet.

When they passed by the tavern in the afternoon, the temptation of a cool drink was almost unbearable. But at heart, both were Knights of Camelot, and they continued their relentless pursue of this elusive man, who called himself Emrys.

They could only hope that Sir Norum was having better luck.

…..

In all reality, Sir Norum was indeed having an easier time of it.

Whether it was his open, friendly manner, or the fact that he was asking around the castle courtyard that made the difference, no one will ever know, but either way, the commoners opened up to him easier.

No one knew where Emrys resided however, and Norum was getting desperate. The hot afternoon sun was shining down on the cobblestones of the courtyard, baking them in its burning rays.

Guards were patrolling the castle walls and were standing erect and straight at its many different doors, their armor reflecting the shining beams in the passerby's sensitive eyes.

Norum rubbed his chin, feeling the slight stubble grate against his fingers, and sighed as another inquiry of his came to naught.

It was getting late, he needed to find Emrys and report to Prince Arthur as soon as possible.

He finally decided that he had no other options available then to enter the castle itself. As far as he could see, it was the most logical, and proactive thing he could do.

He had been watching the guards at the various doors for some time now, and his trained eyes had picked out almost instantly the most relaxed guard on duty.

The guard looked slumped and bored, his gaze lost somewhere in the far distance. The bored guard was standing in front of a low archway, used only by servants and trainees. To Norum, it was his way in.

Falling into line with a group of chattering maidservants, Norum kept quiet and kept his head down. As he passed by the unobservant guard and under a stone arch, Norum sucked in his breath, and didn't let it out until he was through.

The man on duty didn't look twice at him.

Dressing as a commoner most certainly gave one advantages on these rare occasions.

He entered a dark, cool stone corridor, with stairways leading up to either side of him. A slight breeze was drifting through the open entryway, brushing the back of Norum's sweat drenched neck, causing him to smile and take a deep breath. Much better.

The talkative handmaidens began to make their way up the stairway to the right, and after a quick hesitation, Norum decided to follow, hoping the other servants in this castle were as extroverted as they were.

The stone staircase twisted upward in a continuous, steep spiral, lit only by the occasional torch. The smooth walls were cold to the touch, betraying the heat of the sun hitting the castle outside.

Abruptly the stairway came to a landing, and Norum stepped out of the shadow of the tunnel into a bright, high ceilinged hallway with floor to ceiling windows along one side. Golden dust motes floated peacefully in the air, casting a surreal, thoughtful atmosphere to the castle.

A corridor stretched off to his left and to his right, while in front of him another hallway twisted out of sight.

With a shrug, Norum walked down the one to his left, deciding that it was as good a guess as any.

Servants passed by on either side, and some threw him curious glances, but for the most part they ignored him.

Norum began politely stopping one person after another, inquiring about a man named Emrys.

Many of the faces of the people he addressed brightened when they heard the name, they said they knew Emrys, and that he seemed like a very trustworthy, likeable young man. None of them knew where he lived.

Norum's eyebrows rose.

Emrys seemed to keep his cards very close to his chest.

But somebody had to know about the guy, at least that is what Norum kept telling himself as his attempts at finding the man began to feel more and more futile.

Norum sighed, and rubbed his face. This was ridiculous!

He was now aimlessly walking down a brightly lit hallway, hoping to pass some unsuspecting servant so he could ambush them with questions.

Surely someone in this ghastly castle knew the whereabouts of the evil, bloodthirsty sorcerer!

He passed by a door that had two guards stationed at either side, and too late did he realize that he had unknowingly entered the wing of the royal family.

A small body came hurdling through the door, gracelessly colliding with Sir Norum.

"Princess!" One of the guards exclaimed, hurriedly helping her up and glaring daggers at Norum.

"Oh I'm sorry!" The Princess began, looking apologetically at Norum's face, "I didn't mean to…" She trailed off, seeming to catch herself.

She was around twelve to thirteen years old, and she had dark brown hair, and brown eyes.

"Forgive me Your Highness," Sir Norum exclaimed, horrified, "I am so sorry, I had no idea-"

Abruptly, she drew herself up, taking on a regal bearing she had most likely learned from her mother.

"How dare you! Watch where you're going!" She shrieked, losing all kindness under the scrutiny of her guards.

Sir Norum broke off, startled. She had seemed nice enough at first…

Yet he had been around royalty enough in his life to know the correct response- even for miniature ones.

"The fault lies entirely with me, Your Highness. It was a clumsy, irresponsible move on my part, and I beg your pardon and your forgiveness."

The little Princess waved her hand in dismissal, hardly looking at him.

"Yes, I suppose I can forgive you," She said distractedly, keeping the uncaring air about her. Yet the curious sidelong glance she sent his way did not escape Norum's notice. He almost smiled at her antics. She seemed rather… odd.

Norum waited to see if she would say anything further, and when she didn't he got the feeling he was dismissed.

He bowed low.

"Thank you Your Highness, and once again, my most embarrassed apologies."

He began to back away, when out of the corner of his eyes he saw her perk up.

"May I inquire as to what you are doing in this wing of the castle? I haven't seen you here before, and I know everyone who is supposed to come this way," She asked, trying to sound reserved, but curiosity leaking through into her voice anyway.

Norum turned back around, and hesitated.

It wasn't normal for royals to concern themselves with the lives of commoners, and his instincts told him to tread carefully.

He smiled, putting his easygoing façade on.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, I was just looking for someone."

The young girl looked at him expectantly, now losing all pretense of reserve, "Yes? And who might that be?"

Norum's eyebrows rose.

Nope, most definitely not normal. Now deciding that the truth was his best bet in this situation, Norum shrugged slightly and smiled.

"I am trying to find a man named Emrys, he's a friend of mine," Well at least that was mostly truthful…

Norum saw the girls face brighten with recognition as he said the name. He felt a newfound surge of hope.

"Oh, Emrys? I know him! Yes, yes I met him a few weeks ago! He was attacked by bandits! He was shot through the shoulder with an arrow! Thankfully Lord Haymor found him in time, or else I am not sure what would have happened…" She trailed off again, and looked annoyed at herself.

Norum's lips quirked. It seemed the little princess had two personalities.

Then what she said hit him.

Lord Haymor… He had heard that name before… but where?

'_Oh! Prince Arthur's manservant Merlin, works for Lord Haymor!' _Norum remembered, slightly puzzled by the coincidence.

Sir Norum decided to risk a question.

"If I may ask, do you know where Emrys lives Your Highness?"

The princess nodded, once again becoming distracted, "Of course, he resides in the chambers beside Lord Haymor's. He is working as one of his servants. Now I must go."

The princess hurriedly ran off, her two guards trailing her, before Norum could even offer a proper goodbye.

That may have been a blessing in disguise however, as Norum was too stunned to speak. Emrys and Merlin were working for the same master.

He must tell the Prince.

…

"What?" Arthur practically shouted, horrified, "He is rooming with Emrys?" He stopped, his mouth hanging open, then rubbed his hands through his blonde hair in agitation, "We have to get Merlin out of there!"

The thought of innocent old Merlin working side by side with the greatest enemy of Camelot was more then Arthur could bear.

The skinny idiot would probably find out who Emrys was and then proceed to get himself killed in some stupidly heroic attempt to save Camelot.

That thought was meant to be slightly embellished, but then Arthur realized it hit just a bit to close to home with Merlin.

His eyes widened.

"We have _got _to get him out of there!" Arthur repeated, fear now knotting its way into his stomach, leeching his hope away and giving an urgency to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"We will Sire," Sir Allen said softly, trying to calm his Prince down, then looked at the setting sun.

"Just a few more hours."

Arthur locked his jaw, and stared at the sun as well.

He didn't want to wait a few more hours, he wanted to unsheathe his sword and charge the castle now. But he couldn't, he had to sit back and twiddle his thumbs. He was tired of waiting, and patience had never been his strong point.

He rubbed his face with both hands, and plopped onto the pinecone covered ground of the forest, resting his back against a small tree.

He just hoped the idiot was ok.

…

"So what are those things again?" Merlin asked with a choked back laugh. They were in the Great Hall, and the guest's for Princess Isabella's birthday had already arrived. They were awaiting her grand entry, and the musicians were tuning their instruments, in anxious anticipation for the Kingdom's Princess.

Merlin and Danen were standing against a wall, as was the traditional custom for the servants at large events such as these.

"They are rumored to hold his teeth in," Danen sniggered, and shifted his handhold on a large twine tied bundle of letters.

"But I personally think that his mother just jammed the wood between his teeth when he was little, in a pathetic attempt to straighten them out."

Merlin chortled, guiltily trying to stifle sound, knowing it was wrong to laugh. It wasn't Bernard's fault his mother had ruined his teeth forever.

He had just emerged victorious against his rebel sense of humor, when Danen nudged his arm- hard.

"She's here!" Danen whispered, although there was no need for him to, and his face was turning a pleasant shade of red. He clutched his armload of love letters to his chest.

Merlin smiled at his friends antics, and shook his head, following Danen's gaze.

The girl Danen was staring at was young; she could barely have been out of her teen years. She had rather short red hair that just brushed her shoulders, and a large smile.

Danen glanced down at his bundle, then back at the girl. He looked as if he were anticipating, yet dreading the moment he gave them to her.

Merlin could almost see him thinking, '_what if Bernard is right_?'

Merlin grinned encouragingly at him, and pushed him lightly between the shoulder blades.

"Go on," Merlin said with a laugh, "She doesn't look too ferocious."

Danen nodded his head, but didn't look too sure.

With a nervous laugh and a little wave, Danen approached the redheaded girl, who saw him coming and smiled brightly.

Merlin watched them talk, and felt another pang of homesickness. He tried to push the feeling back down, as this was meant to be a joyous occasion. But the feeling of restlessness and anxiety hadn't left him, and he couldn't help but feel that something huge was about to happen.

Truthfully though, Merlin didn't want anything huge to happen, because that meant more time here in this strange land, straightening the problems out.

He liked Cendred's kingdom, he really did, and he felt that he had made some truly genuine friends here.

But it wasn't home.

"Oh my, don't we look happy today." A familiar voiced drawled beside him.

Startled, Merlin yelped, swinging in the direction of that annoyingly amused voice.

Cal smirked.

He was leaning lazily against the wall beside him.

'_How did he even get there?'_ Merlin wondered, unsure whether he was amazed at Cal's sneakiness, or the fact that his ears were just about as sensitive as a brick.

"I can't blame you though, birthday banquets are truly are dreadful, too many sickeningly happy people in too small a space." Cal shuddered, glancing sidelong at Merlin to see if he had gotten him to smile.

He had.

"Yeah," Merlin agreed with a sad shake of the head, "On the bright side at least I don't have to wear a perfectly hideous hat. That is one advantage of being a servant here."

Cal smiled, but it didn't have the usual grin in it. Troubled, Merlin suddenly realized how tired Cal looked tonight. He must not have been getting enough sleep.

"Was it really that bad?" Cal asked his head leaning slightly to one side, "Your time serving… your other, master."

Merlin was surprised by the question.

Cal normally kept his feelings to himself and let everyone else do likewise.

Merlin considered the question, his mood becoming thoughtful. When he found his answer, he knew that it was the absolute truth.

"No," Merlin replied softly, "It wasn't bad at all. In fact, my time there was the best in my life."

Cal seemed pleased by his answer. He turned toward him.

"Listen Merlin," Cal said, suddenly serious, "There is something I need to talk to you about-" Cal's sentence was cut short as a trumpet blew, and the chamberlain announced, "Her Highness, the Princess Isabella!"

The room fell silent, and all turned to the large double doors at the end of the hall.

Cal murmured under his breath, "I'll tell you later," then quickly made his way to sit in a place of honor surprisingly close to King Cendred.

Merlin had been nervous about attending the banquet tonight, out of the fear that Cendred might recognize him, but his fear had been ungrounded so far, as Cendred had yet to even throw a glance his way.

At a signal from the king, the musicians began to play a formal, yet joyous song.

The great doors opened, and Princess Isabella, sister to King Cendred, glided into the hall.

Merlin sucked in his breath a bit too hard, and he coughed loudly in shock.

But in a really weird way, it actually made sense.

The room erupted into cheers.

Princess Isabella, was also the scullery maid Emma, who he had met his very first day in Cendred's kingdom.

Isabella beamed at the cheers, and gave a little wave.

As she began walking towards her seat, her eyes roamed the room until she found Merlin's, and she actually had the grace to look embarrassed.

She smiled at Merlin, who with a grin of astonishment and a shake of the head, smiled and waved back.

Everyone truly was full of surprises.

'_I wonder why she did it,'_ Merlin thought, laughing to himself and continually shaking his head because he didn't know how else to react.

'_Why would a Princess dress up like a servant and roam the castle?' _Even as he had the thought, he knew the answer.

Arthur had done much the same thing not too long ago.

Maybe she was just trying to find out who she really was.

The food was served and the wine cups filled. Music and laughter filled the room, and the sound of it put Merlin in high spirits. It was nice to be somewhere so… normal.

The music took on a humorous tune, and the brightly lit room took on a very cheerful atmosphere.

Merlin was refilling a noble's wine glass, and the party was in full swing when he noticed Isabella beckoning to him.

Merlin hesitated, unsure if it would be wise to venture that close to the King. He took as much time as he could to finish filling the wine goblet, then when he ran out of time to stall finally decided that if he disobeyed a direct order from the Princess, he would be noticed anyway.

He grudgingly made his way towards her, trying to blend into the background as much as possible.

Yet it seemed the more he tried to look inconspicuous, the more noticeable he became.

'_Just act natural,'_ Merlin told himself, shiftily glancing at the king.

Thankfully the king was not yet looking at him as he approached, as he was conversing with one of his many advisors.

Merlin quietly walked up to Isabella, wisely keeping his back to the king and allowing his eyes to fall to the floor in respect.

Yet his voice belayed the effect of his body language.

"Is there something I can do for you, Your _Highness?_" Merlin asked teasingly.

Emma blushed, and motioned for him to fill her cup.

"I really am sorry I lied to you," She said contritely, then hurriedly added, "It's just that sometimes I get bored of sitting around the castle all day, and want to get out on my own without have to escort my own personal parade around with me wherever I go. I just want to be able to be normal, and to be me. To be me without any silly title or rank."

Merlin smiled kindly at her, "I think I understand what you mean, I have a friend who had a somewhat similar mindset once. He didn't like being treated differently based on his title, and wanted to find himself without it."

She looked confused.

"He did?" Emma asked, wondering what friend he could possibly mean, and if she knew him so she could ask him some advice.

Merlin nodded at her, then threw a quick glance at Cendred, who had yet to notice him. Merlin knew he needed to get out of here- and fast.

"And what happened? Was he finally able to be himself?"

Merlin gave her a watery grin, remembering the day.

"Yeah, yeah he was," Merlin answered softly.

"More wine young man," A boisterous voice commanded next to him.

Merlin bit the inside of his lip, and his stomach did a summersault. That was the voice of the King.

Merlin slowly turned around, trying to keep his face turned away as much as possible. Yet doing this made the move awkward, and some wine sloshed out of the bottle and stained the pristine white table cloth. _That,_ caught Cendred's attention.

He looked up and Merlin's face, frowning.

"Watch where you're pouring, servant, or I will see to it that you are removed."

Merlin nodded, and quickly mumbled his most sincere apologies.

Cendred didn't quite hear him, and looked up once again in irritation.

"Speak up!" Cendred ordered, then stopped, his eyes slightly narrowed, staring thoughtfully at Merlin's face.

"My, my, you do look familiar young man, have I seen you before?"

Merlin's uneasiness froze in his chest, and turned into terror.

"What?" Merlin squeaked, his voice cracking and high pitched, "No, no Your Majesty, never."

The king's gaze turned suspicious.

"Is that so?" Cendred asked, his voice low.

Merlin nodded assurance, bobbing his head quickly up and down.

"Yes Your Majesty, quite so!"

"Hmmm," Cendred said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "Very well, be off with you."

His knees weak with relief, Merlin bowed and spun away, his legs moving as quick as he could without causing anymore suspicion.

He told himself to not look back, and to just return to his work. It was the safest thing that he could do now.

That may have been a wise decision, it may have not.

For if Merlin had looked back, he would have seen Cendred's suspicious eyes boring into his back, knowing that that young man, was a horrible liar.

…..

The moons rays reflected off Arthur's unsheathed sword, casting dancing lights over his serious looking men.

Arthur stared at the castle.

It was big, and strong, and had all the advantages. It housed a powerful sorcerer whose ultimate goal was to kill his father and bring destruction upon Camelot. But it also held his servant, and Arthur was not about to let the castle keep him.

They would get him out tonight, and kill the sorcerer in one fell sweep.

**Author's Note: hehe in all honesty… wellll in almost all honesty, that really wasn't **_**that**_** bad a cliffy… was it? **

**But the bright side is the next chapter will be relatively short… emphasis on relatively. Soooo basically that means that it will be out very soon. And I mean that, cause I am looking forward to the next chapter too!**

**Once again, and now and forever, special thanks to… Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, Merlin Fan, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, Micro Chibi Baka San, Ringo's imaginarycat, TaintedXIllusion, 104Arianna, Imperial Mint**, **Teenmuggle, Arbitrary9, Klester1987, Sydelle Rein, DragonGem777, SilverHeart09, DragonflyonBreak, BabyGlover, Kjate95, and Hazelbunny!**

**Ohh there are sooo many of you now! But we really do love all of you, and every time we get a review we squeal and hop up and down… not kidding. **

**Thank you!**

**Cheers!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: No, as sad a fact as it may be, and as horribly stricken you guys may feel over the fact… *Takes deep breath* you may want to sit down. You see… we don't- we… well you see… we don't… we DON'T OWN MERLIN! Ahhh there! I have said it! I feel so much better now! **

**Authors Note: Hey everyone! Ok, well I lied. *crowd gasps* I know right! Shocking! I said that this was going to be a short chapter, but it kinda got away from me… ohhh well. **

**I am ridiculously pleased about the chapter though- whether it deserves it or not. We had a lot of fun writing it and I do hope that you may get to have half as fun a time reading it!**

**Cheers!**

Chapter 11

Morgana threw her legs over the side of the bed, her feet brushing lightly against the cold stone floor. It was dark in her room, so dark, the full moon shining through her window did nothing to keep the darkness at bay.

Because it was in her head.

She wrapped her arms about herself, and tried to calm herself down. She couldn't stop crying.

Morgana's heart was pounding rapidly in her chest, yet it did nothing to warm her. A cold feeling was creeping into her soul, climbing up her back, leeching away at the warmth.

She had seen herself die again in her dreams.

She did not want to, but death did not listen to her pleas. It was coming closer, Morgana could feel it.

Her time was running out.

Morgana shivered convulsively, and pulled her legs back to the relative safety of her bed, wrapping her arms about her knees.

She had seen the fire rushing towards her, threatening to engulf her thin frame, but there was nothing she could do. It was going to happen, she could not stop it nor dissuade it, no one could.

But what scared her most, was that she sometimes thought that it might be time, that maybe, just maybe it would just be easier that way. For at least it would stop the pain.

She was scared, but that was not the only emotion raging through her mind. The most prominent one was a feeling that had been haunting her for days, and it wouldn't let her go.

She had killed her friend, her brother. She had murdered Arthur.

Morgana squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut the memory out.

Guilt was a leaden weight in her chest, worse then the fear of her dying, worse then the encroaching darkness.

She had let Morgause kill Arthur, and she hated herself for it.

The only sound in the room was her panicked breathing, sending ragged gasps into the stillness.

She dreaded waking up in the morning, having to face herself. She dreaded going to sleep at night knowing the dreams that would haunt her.

Morgana was miserable.

All that was left to her now was her hatred. Her hatred for Uther, and even more intense, her hatred for Merlin.

Morgana clung to that now, having nothing left to hold onto. Nothing left to treasure.

She was on her own.

Time passed thus, the moonlight on her floor slowly edging along as her breathing slowly eased and her knotted muscles slowly loosened.

Morgana's head turned as she looked between the curtains on her window to the slight fragment of the night sky she could see.

The deed was done, she could not take it back now. Arthur was dead, there was no taking it back. She would just have to straighten her shoulders and deal with it.

The King's Ward took a shaky breath. That was better.

Morgana lowered her feet back to the smooth stone floor, pushing the pain to the back of her mind. It was still there, like a thorn in her heart, but it wasn't as prevalent.

Quietly, she stood up, pulling the sheet off her bed and wrapping it about her shoulders to ward off the night chill. Wanting to see the sky, Morgana wandered to the window, brushing back the curtains and stared into the starry abyss.

The night was clear, and the heavens beautiful. It was an endless shifting dome, speckled with light and mystery. It went on and on and on. Morgana wanted to be lost in its calming depths, to find respite from her raging emotions.

Morgana didn't find it, she did not find rest, nor peace in the sky. It held no small comfort for her tonight, as it had when she was young.

Morgana was now on her own.

…

Arthur crawled on his chest, keeping his head low and his eyes peeled.

Knee high, wet grass was trampled and crushed under the bodies of the six men, as they slid on their bellies toward the southeast castle wall.

Arthur's elbows, knees, and palms, were dirt smeared and wet. Mosquitoes buzzed at his ears, and stuck to the back of his sweaty neck. Arthur irritably swatted them away.

Behind him, he could hear the soft grunts as his men crawled through the thorn littered, bug infested, plain.

A slight breeze stirred the night air, lightly brushing at Arthur's hair.

A hundred meters ahead of them, Arthur saw guards patrolling on the balustrades, crossbows in hand and swords at hip.

Bright lanterns illuminated the men, glinting off their helmets and plated armor.

Those lanterns, Arthur knew, would be both a blessing and curse.

The guards eyes would be adjusted to their light, and they would be mostly blinded to what to happening in the field beyond the wall, seeing only vague shadows in the hazy darkness.

Upon reaching the top of the wall however, those same lanterns would leave Arthur and his men entirely exposed to the rest of the castle, like a fly stuck on a wall.

They would have to move quickly. Very quickly.

For as far as Arthur could see it, climbing the wall was their only way in, as they couldn't enter through the gate at night without killing the guards and alerting half the kingdom in the process.

He had chosen the spot they would ascend by grappling hook very carefully, wanting to be as close to Lord Haymor's chambers as possible. He didn't want any unnecessary time wasted wandering around the castle hallways, visible to any eye that cared to look.

The soldiers that circulated the balustrades marched by the southeast wall roughly every three minutes, eyes alert and probing. Their ascent up the wall would have to be timed perfectly.

There would certainly be no time to stop and smell the roses, that was for sure.

Arthur himself wasn't entirely certain he could get him and his men up and over the wall in that short amount of time, but they had to try, and they had to keep a positive attitude, for considering the prospect of defeat was to set oneself up for failure.

'_We will make it,_' Arthur told himself determinedly, _'We have to.'_

The wall was looming right above them now, casting Arthur and the knights into the even darker darkness of its shadow.

With the moment they had been working for so close, Arthur felt his stomach do a half summersault in anticipation and nervousness.

It was time, it was time to kill the sorcerer, or die trying. For if they failed, all of Camelot would fall.

Nothing could stop them now, nothing could detour them from their purpose, for they had their hearts and lives set on it.

Arthur crawled until he could have almost touched the wall with his outstretched hand, and until he was certain they would not be spotted from the soldier's vantage point on the wall above.

He slowly pushed himself up onto his knees, and then even more slowly, inching to make no sound, climbed up onto his feet, his mud stained trousers sticking uncomfortably to his knees.

He signaled to his knights, motioning for them to stand, but to stay still.

The Castle wall towered into the air, like a black monster looming over them, sprung tight to catch them in its unbreakable grasp.

Arthur could hear his heart rhythmically pounding in his ears, the rapid drum of a man running on too much adrenaline.

Arthur heard the sound before a battle; it was the drum he heard before he was going to be fighting for his life, and for the lives of his comrades.

He was accustomed to the noise, and oddly, it brought a small comfort to Arthur, for it brought a sense of normality to the situation.

As his men clamored to their feet, Sir Allen stifled an unexpected sneeze, the pollen tossed into the air from the long grass proving to be too much. Arthur winced as if forcibly slapped as the poorly muffled sound barked through the quiet night air.

The sound seemed to echo off the walls, bouncing and repeating itself over and over again, shattering the peace of the evening. Arthur closed his eyes, trying to shut it out, consoling himself with the knowledge that he would make Sir Allen pay later.

No one moved, even as the echo faded away, and the stillness that only comes with an autumn night returned.

Faraway, Arthur could hear the steady clang of metal boots on stone, as the guards paraded around the walls. The boot's pace had not been broken, or quickened in haste.

As the gentle chirping of crickets filled the air, and as the seconds grudgingly ticked by, Arthur slowly let out his pent-up breath, wary of letting relief take hold of him too quickly.

On the balustrade above, the distinctive clank of the guards as they passed by the shadowed group of invaders and continued on their way speechlessly, caused more then just Arthur's shoulders to slump shamelessly in relief.

There were whispered exclamations of relief, and more then a few sharp chastisements with the unfortunate Sir Allen on the receiving end.

Arthur stilled them with a quick wave of his hand. With the danger out of the way, and nothing bad to come from it, Arthur saw no reason to scold a Knight for a poorly timed deed he had no control over.

Besides, he looked embarrassed enough to put a thoroughly scorned dog to shame. With his slumped shoulders and wounded eyes, Sir Allen most certainly looked the part.

Sighing and rolling his shoulders to release the tension, Arthur motioned for Norum to pass him the grappling hook.

As his men saw the motion, they instantly sobered, lifting their heads as they stared at the wall above them.

It really was time to go.

They had three minutes, their time starting as soon as the guards circled around their hiding place once more.

Already, they could hear the heavy footsteps beginning to increase in volume as the soldiers came back their way.

Their prince turned towards them, looking each of them in the eye. He didn't say anything, he had spent from dawn that morning till the point where they began crawling towards the walls briefing them on what to do. He had overstressed it, determined to drive their individual duties home.

So now he just looked at them, knowing that it may be the last time they all stood in the same place together. None of them were naïve enough to believe that they would all come out of this alive, for they were all well seasoned warriors, and they knew the risk. Some of them were going to die.

Yet as they looked into their Prince's eyes, they all knew that it was worth it. It was for him, their future King, and it was for Camelot.

Arthur sent a brief nod in their direction, letting a sad smile touch the corners of his mouth.

He was proud of them.

The moment was broken as the drumming footsteps of the guards clanked on the rough stone above them.

They were very close.

Arthur turned around and shifted his grip on the grappling hook, lightly holding the hook in his right hand, and the thin coil of rope in his left. The rope was soft, but had enough of a grip to it to be able to climb up easily.

As the soldiers passed directly over them, only their black silhouettes visible in the glare of the lanterns, Arthur mentally began counting backwards from eight, knowing that when he reached zero the guards would turn the bend on the wall, and become more or less out of sight.

Arthur had watched the guard's progress that morning, memorizing their habits and schedules, for the timing of this climb had to be perfect.

'_8… 7… 6…' _Arthur began, his gut beginning to twist. He slowly started twirling the grappling hook, stepping slightly back through the tangled grass, measuring his throw.

He could see as the soldiers on patrol moved out of the most prominent glare of a lantern, clanking onto one of the rare circles of darkness, before walking back into the glow of yet another radiant light.

'_5… 4… 3…'_ Behind him, Arthur sensed his men getting closer, their bodies sprung tight, ready for the grueling display of strength that would be required of them any moment.

Arthur spun the hook faster, emitting a low hum whirring through the chilled night.

'_2… 1…' _Arthur's heart lurched.

'_Zero'. _

The clawed hook left Arthur's grasp just as the guards stiffly turned the bend, unaware of the small but determined band of enemies just out of their sight.

Even as the hook shot into the air, Arthur knew it was a throw to be proud of. It perfectly arched over the wall, neither going too high to make unnecessary noise, or too low to clang graceless against the bulwarks and fall back to the ground.

As it landed, it made a low scraping sound, catching between the parapet and the crenellations.

Arthur yanked twice, testing its stability, then without wasting another second, grabbed the rope with both hands and swung his feet against the wall, bracing himself.

Lifting one hand above the other, Arthur steadily began to climb, his well soled boots fitting into the slight crevices in the outer stones of the wall.

Behind him, his men began following suit, praying that the hook would hold.

"One, two, three," Arthur gritted out between his teeth, as they began their painstaking journey to the top.

They had three minutes, and they had to make every second count.

….

In the very castle Arthur was at this very moment storming, a certain King twisted and turned in his sleep, haunted by dreams of a raven headed boy.

In the uncertain land floating between the consciousness and dreams Cendred drifted, but even in his semiconscious state, his mind was working overtime.

That face! That elfin face with a pale complexion and large ears… He had seen it before, Cendred was certain of it. But where?

His mind sifted through his memories, discarding face after face that had appeared in his life in no specific order, but in a brilliant whirling mass of visions and flashbacks that would have overwhelmed anyone who was not in this magical state of half consciousness.

Different places, people and scenes from his life showed themselves behind his closed eyelids, before he unceremoniously threw them out and grasped for new ones.

No, not it, no, no, no, NO!

Cendred angrily tossed over in his sleep, his arm flying across his face.

That wasn't it!

The unfortunate servant chosen to stand in waiting that night shifted uncomfortably in his stationed corner, dreading the king waking up in this angry state. That would not fare well for him if he did.

Unhappily, the servant grumbled under his breath at his ill fated luck at being stuck to wait on the kings beck and call on the very night his master decided to become ill tempered. It wasn't fair!

The servant guiltily started and held his breath and his king groaned and flipped over a second time, griping in his sleep.

Determined to not wake his king, and concerned for his personal safety, the servant stubbornly refused to take another breath until his master had settled.

He waited a very long time.

Unaware of his servant's predicament, Cendred continued his relentless search, making an oath to himself that he would find out the identity of that tall, high cheek-boned _boy_.

This was important, he could sense it. Why couldn't the blasted face show itself? He needed to find it, there was an urgency to the situation Cendred didn't entirely understand, but felt with some sixth sense.

That boy was not just important, but crucial, and Cendred's body quivered as he flipped over, slamming a clenched fist into his fluffed pillows.

He needed to know who he was, and now!

As if acquiescing to his angry demands, a chord deep within his memory snapped back into place, and he could sense a time from the past beckoning at him, calling out to him.

Intrigued, Cendred locked onto the hazy vision, giving it a turn to swarm before his eyes.

It was a scene from the time he had captured Prince Arthur and his party.

This memory lifted his spirits slightly, as he remembered the feeling of victory and pride that day had brought.

His pleased emotion morphed into one of mindless delight as he saw the slight blonde figure of Morgause standing beside him.

In his dream, Cendred grinned lazily, puffing out his chest, doing his best to look handsome for her.

Ohhhh, what a beautiful queen she would make.

He continued his primping and preening as he looked down the line of captives, taking their horrified faces in with glee.

He liked this dream, so much happiness in so little time.

As his eyes roamed past the stage acting face of Morgana, his gaze landed on the next person in line.

He had raven hair, high cheekbones, an elfin face, and pathetically large ears. Hmmm. Not much to look at.

He switched his love-blinded gaze back to the jaw-droppingly beautiful face of Morgause, standing graceful and erect.

Her blonde hair framed her face in such a complimentary way, and draped across her shoulders as if framed that way. The warm light cast her face into soft shadows, bringing out all her best features.

Cendred sighed in contentment, smiling like an idiot at her.

In the back of his mind, Cendred felt as if he was missing something, something important.

But whatever it was he didn't care, and he was sure it could wait. It would have to, for right now, Morgause's beauty surpassed all else's by such an unexaggerated extent, it would be a crime to let it go to waste.

Yet the feeling continued to torment him- like an itch.

It wouldn't go away, and to his annoyance, it distracted him from the unearthly beauty of Morgause.

Frowning, Cendred stubbornly continued to stare at the woman on whom all his enamored affections were lost.

Big ears. The boy in the line had big ears… Who else had big ears?

Rolling his eyes, Cendred firmly told himself to drop it. It didn't matter.

And the elfin face, surely he had seen that before? _Shut up _Cendred gritted between his teeth.

Raven hair… He _had_ seen that before.

Cendred's gaze flew to the boy at the end of the line, Morgause temporarily forgotten.

He was the servant from the feast! Wait a minute… that was…

"MERLIN!" Cendred bolted upright in bed, ripping his entangled sheets off his legs in the same motion.

His angry gaze locked onto the slightly blue face of a servant in his corner.

"Find him! Kill him! He is Prince Arthur's manservant!" He yelled, leaping out of bed, "Wake the officers, the nobles, EVERYONE! _Kill_ Merlin!"

The terrified servant bobbed his head and hurried for the door.

"Not yet you idiot, you must get me my robe!" Cendred demanded angrily, gesturing at the garment folded neatly less then a foot away on his bedside table.

The servant seemed to wilt under his lords angry but disoriented demands, and fumbled clumsily in his blind haste to carry them out.

He kept his head down as he hurried to his master's side, lifting up the robe and shaking it out.

The king looked regal, and stretched his arms out to either side of him, staring disdainfully at the new servant.

"Hurry up!" Cendred barked irritably, "Do you have no brains? You must warn the officers!"

Now flustered beyond recovery, and unsure of what to do, the servant hurriedly draped the robe gracelessly over one of Cendred's outstretched arms, completely missing the King's infuriated look in his hasty bow.

"Will there be anything else Your Majesty?" the servant squeaked, still bowing deep.

"You're fired!" Cendred barked, unable to withhold his anger any longer as he stared at the idiotic face of the servant.

The servant almost looked relieved- how odd.

"Yes Your Majesty," he said meekly, and began backing out.

"Not yet you brainless worm! Alert the troops! Put the city in lockdown! Find and _Kill_ Merlin!" Cendred screeched, fumbling with his own robe.

…

Arthur's fingers curled around the top edge of the wall, and he forced the protesting muscles in his back, shoulders, and arms to haul himself upward one last time.

His footing between the cracks in the wall became precarious as he strained, as his hands were no longer holding onto the rope, but the rough stones themselves.

He was hanging from the wall merely by his fingertips and toes, both of which were threatening to commit mutiny, so Arthur tried not to think of the sickening drop that awaited him if they gave out.

He prided himself with a good head for heights, but he knew with a vivid clarity that if he looked at the ground a dizzying distance away, even his courage may desert him.

Staring pointedly upward, Arthur concentrated on lifting his left foot up just a couple more inches, simply so he could get a better grip on the top of the wall.

His foot cautiously left the small crevice in the wall, his toes looking franticly for another hold as he felt his right foot shift with the accumulated weight.

Instinctively Arthur tried to ease the weight on his toes, and he felt his fingertips grow white with the strain of holding almost his entire bodyweight as his left foot searched desperately for some small hold.

They didn't have time for this! Arthur had been counting meticulously throughout the grueling climb, and they had only 40 seconds left for all of them to reach the top and find cover.

Frustrated and desperate, Arthur threw caution to the wind and dumped all his weight onto his right foot, which was valiantly still clutching the wall. Arthur now bent his knee, feeling his muscles tense in anticipation, and pushed off with his toes, putting all his effort into one last leap.

He knew if he missed it, he would fall.

The crevice Arthur had been standing on cracked, the debris and dust falling on his men below, but he was already in the air, his body rolling as his shoulder hit the parapet, so his feet could land solidly on the ground.

His soled boots hit the ground lightly and Arthur immediately ducked into a half squat, not wanting to risk discovery from the courtyard below.

The light of the lantern hanging directly above them illuminated everything in the vicinity, and Arthur felt horribly exposed.

He could hear Sir Allen climbing into the exact same position he had just left, and knowing the predicament he would face, Arthur took the risk and stood, leaning over the parapet to grab Allen's forearm.

As Allen saw his Prince's face looming over him, he felt a jolt of relief, for he was the largest of the Knights and he wasn't sure he would be able to nimbly hop over the wall as Arthur had done.

Placing his toes in the same crevice that had cracked slightly under Arthur's weight, Sir Allen clasped the top of the wall and jumped for all he was worth, while Arthur hauled him up by his forearm from above.

The strength they both put into the throw far exceeded what was needed, and Sir Allen went sailing up and over the wall, gracelessly hitting the ground hands first, with a muted 'thud'.

From where he lay, Sir Allen groaned softly, slowly peeling what was left of his face off the ground and staggered to his feet, muttering under his breath about bad bones.

When he was finally able to look up, he saw with some relief that Arthur had already hauled all of the Knights over the wall except Sir Norum.

It was then that the warning bell rang.

Its clear, crystal tunes cut through the quiet night like a knife, shattering the peace and turning Arthur's stomach upside down.

Had they been seen? He had thought they still had twenty seconds. Unnerved Arthur swung around, reaching for his sword, his keen senses searching out an enemy.

At each of the four corners of the castle walls stood a guard tower, looming protectively over the battlements.

They were now standing dangerously close to one of those very towers, and Arthur could hear men rushing about inside, and weapons being drawn. Any second, dozens of men would come storming out of the small door leading from the tower to the wall, brandishing crossbows and swords.

They needed to get off this wall, now. The castle was waking up, Arthur could see candles being lit in some windows, and saw a thin line of soldiers marching across the far end of the courtyard.

The prince couldn't fathom what had triggered the alarm, but he was sure it wasn't them, so it was still possible for them to navigate the castle if they could just stay out of sight.

Casting his eyes about for a way to escape, Arthur's gaze alighted on the stone stairway leading to the shadowed courtyard below.

That was their best chance, for once in the courtyard Arthur was certain they would find a temporary place to hide.

Arthur quickly motioned for his men to follow him, sprinting to the staircase just meters away. The shouts from the tower were increasing in volume and enthusiasm.

Arthur had gone no more then a couple paces toward the stairway when he stopped in his tracks. Norum was still hanging from the wall!

Swiveling back around, heart in his throat, Arthur ran back to the parapet, peering over the wall at Norum who was desperately clutching the top of the wall with his fingertips.

The crevice between the rocks Arthur had stood upon had long since worn away, giving Sir Norum practically nothing to hold onto.

"Run Sire!" Norum cried out, fingertips turning white, "You have to get off the wall or they will catch both of us!"

The bell was ringing loudly in Arthur's ears, so he didn't notice the first two guards return from their patrol until it was too late.

He faintly heard a sword slither from its sheath behind him, and some instinct recognized the sound and warned him to duck.

Arthur dropped to his knees, a glinting sword slashing just inches over his head, and a frustrated outcry sounding out from the soldier who had missed.

From the ground, Arthur swung his legs around, chopping the soldier's feet out from under him.

The man windmilled his arms and went toppling to the ground.

Arthur leapt to his feet, unsheathing his sword simultaneously and placing it in guard position just as the second man dove at him.

The soldier was an amateur and as far as Arthur could see, very young. Easily sidestepping the stroke, Arthur grabbed the man's wrist, placing his right foot behind the man's legs, and shoved him backwards.

The first guard had regained his balance and slashed at Arthur's head once more. The prince lifted his sword just in time to intercept the stroke and the sound of steel scraping on steel filled the air.

The guard dove again and Arthur parried, slashing backhanded at the man, driving him back with stroke after stroke, knowing the necessity of getting himself and Norum off the wall as soon as possible.

Unbeknownst to Arthur, the younger of the two men had quietly climbed back to his feet, sword in hand, staring at Arthur's exposed back.

The boy had a moment of hesitation however, for he had been trained to fight honorably and the thought of killing a man when his back was turned revolted him.

Unsure of himself, the young soldier looked at his sword, and he frowned. The boy began to panic as he saw his comrade being overridden by this new blonde haired invader, and he quickly came to a decision.

Stepping forward, the soldier lifted the sword over his head, gripping the handle tightly to keep it from shaking. The young man was scared, and his fear made him clumsy, so as he stepped forward for the killing stroke, his metal boot scraped against the stone ground, emitting a slight grating sound.

Arthur, now alerted to the presence of the young soldier behind him, rapidly spun around, blocking the clumsy thrust at his heart with ease.

Arthur retaliated, striking out at the soldier with terrifying skill, driving him back, but this time keeping the elder one behind him well within his sight.

As the young man was pushed back, his sword began to shake from the force of Arthur's blows, but his face had a determined edge to it that impressed the Prince.

He knew that the kid must have been behind him for quite some time while he carelessly battered the old soldier, so the boy must have had the opportunity to kill him, yet he'd hesitated.

Arthur purposely entangled their blades, and with a quick downward shove and a flick of his wrist, disarmed the young soldier, who then desperately retaliated with a quick punch at Arthur's face.

Arthur moved is face slightly to the side and the fist passed harmlessly by next to his ear. In a move Arthur had practiced more times then he could remember, his hand shot up and grabbed the younger man's wrist, twisting his arm behind his back.

The man struggled franticly, doing his best to wriggle out of Arthur's iron grasp, but as he realized that it was hopeless, he sagged, awaiting the death he knew was coming.

Arthur quietly spoke into his ear.

"You didn't want to kill me when my back was turned, and that makes you one of two things. You are either a coward, or a man of incredible honor," Arthur paused, and leaned back, thoughtfully handling his sword, then added in a softer voice, "And I know you are no coward."

With that, Arthur lifted his sword into the air and brought the hilt firmly down onto the young soldier's head, knocking him out cold.

Arthur looked over his handiwork with satisfaction, and decided that he should use the move he had copied from Sir Allen more often.

A patient cough from Sir Norum brought Arthur back to reality.

"Sire…" Norum called out from behind him, an odd edge to his voice that caused Arthur to look behind him.

The older soldier stood over Sir Norum, who was helplessly still clutching the wall, as the man raised his sword.

Arthur sprang forward, diving for the man who was bringing the deadly weapon down on his friend.

When the sword was just inches from Norum's exposed head, Arthur's blade pierced deep into the old soldier's heart, killing him instantly.

The soldier gasped in surprise and pain, and breathed his last, crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

It was at this moment that the men in the tower now chose to come bursting onto the wall, storming from the small but sturdy door built into the tower.

Arthur's stomach twisted and he held back a sigh. Their time was up. All that was left to do now was buy some time, not much, just enough for Arthur to find a way to salvage what was left of their mission or at the very least, find a way to escape.

When the group saw Arthur and Norum less then ten meters away, the company came to an abrupt halt and grunted in surprise, staring at them like some sort of weird bug that didn't belong.

Arthur casually smiled, leaning sideways against the low stone parapet while simultaneously dropping his hand to Norum's forearm.

When Arthur decided to run for it, he wanted to be ready.

Arthur waved his free hand in greeting, hoping that maybe he could bluster his way through this unpleasant situation, "Hello there!" He called amiably, "How are you fellows?"

The obvious leader of the groups eyes quickly took in the soldiers laying at Arthur's feet, then back to the two intruders, one of which was clutched to the side of the outer wall.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

The leader motioned for a few of his men to block the stairs, cutting off the invaders exit.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" The man asked directly, looking Arthur coldly in the eye.

"Well," Arthur began, his eyes watching the men, but Norum interrupted him.

"My good sir, as you can see, we are owl handlers," Norum stated matter-of-factly.

The leader turned his cold gaze on him, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"Indeed," the man said crisply, "Then I am afraid our good Kingdom will have two less owl handlers when the sun rises."

The man motioned for his men to begin advancing upon them.

Arthur's free hand moved casually behind his back, grasping the grappling hook.

"Oh, that will be a shame," Norum said sadly, mockingly feigning ignorance after a quick decision to play the fool once more, "Do I know them? I probably do, considering I am very popular, and I have been told, the greatest owl handler in this kingdom and beyond. It must be my charm, owls just love me… which I am very pleased about, because I happen to be quite fond of them, and their feathers, oh I do love feathers, especially orange ones, which is very unfortunate, for this area is severely lacking feathers of such a beautiful shade. Sometimes, I think I may have been better off to take pleasure in something other then orange feathers, oh you know, like salad bowls for example… no, no on second thought, that would be ridiculous! I would be disgraced from my family! My cousin loves the salad bowls! I cannot love them too, for that would not go over well with him. We guard our hobbies very jealously you know. No, I think that it is my destiny to be plagued with loving orange feathers, for all the other interesting hobbies are taken-"

"Silence you idiot!" The leader demanded irritably, and turned his head over his shoulder to address his men, "These fools are useless to us, just kill them, they have wasted enough of my time already."

With a throaty war cry, the twenty men charged, swords brandished and glinting in the light of a swaying lantern.

Arthur's muscles tensed. Time to run.

"Jump!" Arthur ordered Norum, who didn't waste a second.

Norum leaped upward with all he had, Arthur hauling him over the wall by his forearm, and simultaneously reeling up the grappling hook.

Norum clumsily clattered over the wall, and Arthur half dragged, half carried him to the edge of the wall facing the courtyard.

It was only a couple steps, but to Arthur it felt like an eternity, for he could see the men advancing, and they were so close now.

Picking Norum up by the waist, Arthur ignored his indignant cry of outrage, and hooked the grappling hook to the parapet now facing him.

Then the soldiers were upon them, and Arthur ducked as a sword whistled by his cheek, then dodged as another slash was aimed at Norum.

Arthur was about to do something recklessly foolish, but he didn't care. The chances of this actually working were frighteningly low, but the chances of them surviving up here with these bloodthirsty guards was even less.

Holding tightly onto the rope attached to the hook, he dove a second sword stroke, and forgetting to take a preparatory breath in his haste, Arthur jumped over the wall, diving into the courtyard, a terrified Sir Norum's angry outcries ringing in his ears.

Arthur's gut clenched and rolled as he freefell off the wall, nothing but a length of rope in his hand, and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the unfamiliar feeling. The rope abruptly became taut, sending a jarring feeling up Arthur's arms, and the fall turned into a sharp swing.

Even with the rope to break the fall, the ground was still rushing towards him at an alarming rate, and Arthur braced himself for a hard landing, bending his knees and rolling himself into as much of a ball as he could manage while holding Norum.

The feeling as Arthur slammed into the ground was sickening.

His body felt crushed under an unforgiving weight, and he dimly realized that he was on his back, skidding across the courtyard's cobblestones.

His body felt as if it was on fire, and his eyes wouldn't open. He noticed he was no longer carrying Norum, and hoped he hadn't dropped him.

He felt himself grind to a halt, and distantly noticed the drumming footsteps of the soldiers running in pursuit of him down the walls steps.

Why wouldn't his blasted eyes open?

"Sire!" Arthur heard his title shouted, noticing the deep concern in the voice that spoke, and for a second believed that it was Merlin. Then he felt the strength of the arms that grasped him and immediately dismissed the thought. The arms were gently shaking his shoulders.

"In the name of all that's good and merciful Sire please tell me you're alright!"

Unbidden, Arthur felt his arm wave in acknowledgement, and heard himself idiotically proclaim that he had never felt better.

Now what had possessed him to say that? He felt terrible, and the lovely black thing swarming towards him looked very inviting.

He felt arms hauling him into the air, and an odd whooshing feeling as he was thrown over a bony shoulder.

He felt distantly offended, wishing that whoever had decided to lug him around like a sack of potatoes would kindly put him down. It was embarrassing! Not to mention beneath his dignity.

A bell ringing loudly on the outskirts of his consciousness began to loll him into a state of semi-consciousness.

He felt the man carrying him start to run, his heavy footsteps jolting through Arthur's body.

Voices swarmed in and out, annoyingly keeping him from a full blackout. Arthur could hear shouting in the distance, or was it nearby? It was impossible to tell, hanging upside-down as he was from a useless, hopping knight.

He felt himself swing to the right as the idiot abruptly slid to the left.

More shouting, why was everybody shouting?

He heard the smooth sound of a sword gliding out of its sheath, then the blessed blackness swarmed in, cutting off further thought.

…

Cal awkwardly threw his arm through the sleeve of his jacket while simultaneously attempting to buckle on his sword.

The warning bell had awoken him, sending him instinctively leaping out of bed, his training taking over.

He now glanced over his shoulder as he heard the outside of his door rapped sharply.

"Oh very well," Cal drawled in mock exasperation, "Come in."

The door creaked open, admitting the nervous head of a young servant.

"My- my Master the King has ordered the arrest and execution of a male servant by the name of Merlin."

Dread and shock hit Cal's stomach like a stone, causing his hands to slip so he dropped his sword. No… he had thought that he had more time!

The servant saw the horrified look on the captain's face and hurried on, "I uhh, don't really know why, but he was frustrated something awful when he awoke, and screamed for the servants head on a silver platter…" The boy trailed off, looking green.

Cal noticed the openly aghast expression on his own face, and quickly fought to regain control of himself, replacing the sickened look with the one of laidback ease he was famous for.

"Won't that be a pleasant sight," Cal said lightly, leaning down to regain his sword, "Am I correct in believing that I am to report to the guardhouse to receive my personal orders?"

The boy hurriedly nodded his head, "Oh yes Sir! Some men are already ready for your leadership."

Cal leaned forward, lifting his knee slightly to pull on his last boot.

"Isn't that swell," he muttered to himself.

The servant was still talking.

"I wonder what that man did to have the king so angry with him? Do you think it was something really awful, or something perfectly normal, like he forgot to polish his boots?"

Cal glanced up at the boy.

He looked terrified. Cal supposed he had every right to be, being enlisted into the King's service as he was.

Cal decided to try to make him smile.

"Oh don't worry, I am sure that whatever Merlin did was the epitome of evil and insanity, as he is no doubt the culprit responsible for stealing Chef Brown's muffins."

The servant looked confused, unsure how to react.

"Oh… ok. Yeah, yeah you're right," he replied, trying to hide the hopeless undertone in his voice.

Cal raised his eyebrows, and finished with his boot. The boy really seemed scared for his life. Maybe he should try a different tactic.

As he straightened, he looked the boy in the eye, and smiled at him reassuringly.

"Listen, I don't know Cendred's reasons, but here is what I do know. I know that he is a rather rash, but good king, and for what it's worth, I can see that _you _are quite a fantastic servant- so keep your chin up for me ok?"

The boy's eyes widened, and he stared at Cal uncomprehendingly, then his face slowly morphed into a hesitant grin.

'_That's better,'_ Cal thought with a sad smile.

The servant looked up at the captain with a newfound admiration and awe.

"Thank you sir!"

…...

Cal walked down the dark corridor towards the guardroom.

The hall was almost entirely deserted, save for a few fearful servants huddled together in dark corners, gossiping among themselves as to the reason for the alarm.

The sound of metal boots pounding up the hallway caught Cal's attention, as he had yet to encounter another soldier.

"Captain!" The lieutenant leading the group called out, coming to attention, "Do you have any news on the servant?"

Cal opened his mouth to state that he had not when he stopped himself.

Why should he let them know that? He didn't _want_ them to find Merlin. So why not help the kid out a bit and lead these soldiers on a wild goose chase? It might even be entertaining.

"Why yes I have!" Cal replied, putting an urgent note into his voice, and remembered that Merlin resided in the southeast wing of the castle, "He is in the northwest tower! Hurry! Off with you before he escapes!"

The guards snapped smartly to attention and bustled off, determined and resolute to capture the nonexistent intruder.

Cal smiled to himself as they dashed away.

That was pathetically easy.

Behind him, a lone soldier came running up.

"Captain, I saw you send those men off. Please tell me you know where this evasive servant lives!"

Cal nodded his head, and put on a superior air.

"Yes, yes indeed I do," Cal said sagely, "To my infinite knowledge, the servant is currently in the dungeons! At least he knows where his ultimate destination will be and is saving us the time of getting him there. Go on… kill him! That's a good fellow."

The soldier drew his sword and saluted the Captain.

"Yes Sir!"

The man called to a few of his friends and they all tromped down a flight of stairs to Cal's left toward the dungeons.

This time Cal grinned. Oh he did so love his rank.

A group of bleary eyed soldiers were drawn by the commotion. More then likely they had just rolled out of bed.

"Ahh good!" Cal said with a relieved sigh, "I needed someone! The servant is raiding the royal treasury! If you find him, you will receive an earldom! Tell everyone you see!"

The men's faces took on a greedy tint, their exhaustion falling away from them as if it had never been and raced off, clamoring to be first to apprehend the rogue servant.

Cheerfully, Cal continued on down the corridor, whistling a happy tune and calling out random directions, doing his very best to sow as much chaos as he possibly could.

"He is kidnapping our cook!" He yelled out to a large group of lower ranking officers.

"He is assassinating the King!" He roared into the guardroom.

Ahh yes, the pleasures of being important.

…

Arthur hazily swam in and out of consciousness, fighting to open his eyes.

Colored flashes danced before his eyelids, putting on a beautiful display of light. Yet Arthur knew they weren't real, he knew he needed to wake up.

Something important was happening, and here he was like a dope being lugged around half asleep.

'_Gods Arthur open your eyes!' _

Despite his most valiant efforts however, his eyes remained stubbornly glued shut.

He still heard voices, mindless murmurs he couldn't make out, tickling his ears, and brushing right up against his consciousness, taunting him.

He was rescued from the mocking voices as one in particular got his attention.

"Those are his chambers. Emrys is inside, hopefully asleep."

'_Emrys…'_ Arthur thought blearily, and he knew the name meant something to him.

His eyes flickered, seeing the slightest stab of light through the slit lids.

"What about the Prince? Should we attempt to kill Emrys without him? I am not sure."

'_Kill Emrys… Emrys… He's a Sorcerer!'_

"I personally don't think he will thank us for that later," a different voice stated, and Arthur recognized it as Sir Norum.

'_I most certainly will not!' _Arthur thought indignantly, and redoubled his struggle with his renegade eyelids, forcing himself to wake up.

More light filtered through his vision this time, and Arthur took a shaky breath, opening his eyes wider.

He made out that he was in a dark hallway, leaning against a wall with the knights huddled in a tight group motioning at a door beside them.

They were there! They had made it.

Arthur took a deeper breath, his vision clearing once and for all and adrenaline searing into his veins.

Sir Allen turned his head at the sound, and noticed Arthur's return to consciousness for the first time.

"Sire!" He exclaimed, kneeling down next to him concerned, "How are you feeling?"

Arthur saw the expectant looks his men were sending his way, and straightened his shoulders. They needed a leader, and he was going to give them one.

"Much better, I had a momentary black out is all."

Sir Allen didn't look convinced, and Arthur didn't want to be coddled so he hurriedly changed the subject.

"Well done men, I see you have found him," The Prince stated unnecessarily.

"Yes Sire," Sir Kay answered, with a proud smile.

Arthur looked from one face to the next, waiting. Arthur cleared his throat.

"Well then, let us go in shall we?"

Arthur made to stand, but a hand on his chest stopped him.

Sir Allen looked apologetic, but dead serious.

"I am afraid we cannot let you do that My Lord," He said regretfully, and Arthur stared at him disbelievingly.

Did someone just tell him no?

"You have only just recovered from your fall, and it churns my stomach to think of you in that room with a sorcerer in your current state," Allen said sincerely, and Arthur clamped his jaw.

He was not about to let them bully him into leaving Merlin again.

"I appreciate your concern, but there is no need for it. As I said, I am perfectly alright."

Allen shook his head stubbornly, "Sire, you do not see yourself! You are not in fit condition, and I cannot have your death on my conscience."

"And I cannot have yours!" Arthur shot back, "I am your prince, Sir Allen, it is my duty to lead you. Serving to the death is not something only Knights are called upon to do. It is my duty, and I will bear it to the end."

They locked eyes.

Sir Allen looked pleadingly at him, "Sire, please…"

Arthur shook his head firmly, and at the look Allen sent him, suddenly felt a surge of affection for the man.

He was only trying to keep him safe.

But he had a likewise duty to them.

Arthur sighed, and began to stand up. Sir Allen offered him his hand, in a Knights gesture of peace and comradeship.

Arthur smiled, and clasped it gladly.

…

Arthur slowly edged the door open, trying to stifle the creak as the door swung slowly inward.

He could hear gentle snoring coming from inside.

He stopped the door from opening any further then was necessary and slowly edged inside, motioning for Allen and Kay to follow him.

Inside were three beds.

In two of them lay the sleeping bodies of surprisingly young men, one of which Arthur knew must be Emrys.

He frowned and stared at their faces.

They looked so… Arthur searched for the word- guileless.

'_Of course they do,'_ He told himself firmly, _'They are sorcerers! It is merely an illusion, a trick, to throw people off.'_

Arthur's eyes shifted to the third bed, and his heart warmed at the sight.

Sprawled with his arm thrown over the side and his mouth hanging open was his sorely missed manservant.

Merlin mumbled in his sleep, and flipped over, clamping his mouth shut as if he knew Arthur was watching.

Arthur looked back at the two other sleeping men. Which one was Emrys? Each of them looked equally harmless.

Arthur shrugged to himself, that problem was easily fixed.

Merlin would know.

Quietly creeping towards the bed, loath to make a sound, Arthur slowly approached.

Even though it had only been a couple of weeks, Merlin looked older, as if it had been months.

Yet the blundering innocence that just seemed to reek off him was still the same. It was still the same old Merlin.

Arthur smiled and dropped down beside him.

He moved his hand to nudge his shoulder, but stopped himself.

This was Merlin he was waking up. Knowing him, he might just scream… like a girl.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur decided he would have to clamp his mouth, just to be on the safe side.

He didn't want his ungainly manservant waking the entire castle in his joy to see him.

Lifting his hand over Merlin's face so it hovered in the air, Arthur stared at his servant's face one more time before waking him up.

He smiled to himself. It really was good to see him again.

Arthur's hand dropped over Merlin's mouth.

Merlin's eyes snapped open.

When he saw the hand grabbing his mouth, he panicked, franticly trying to pry it loose.

"Merlin!" Arthur hissed under his breath, trying to calm the idiot down. He had to admit though, he had surprisingly good reflexes.

Merlin stopped struggling the instant he heard his name.

His head slowly turned, and his gaze alighted upon his Prince.

His face looked shocked in the most satisfying way.

Arthur slowly lifted his hand away from Merlin's mouth.

"Arthur?" Merlin said disbelievingly, his eyes wide with shock and confusion.

Arthur smiled, and whispered, "My my, hasn't your intelligence improved!"

Merlin's features split into a grin.

"Arthur!" Merlin bolted upright, sitting up in bed, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you not to come and retrieve me!" Merlin admonished, too happy to care.

"And since when did you become the Master and I the servant Merlin?" Arthur asked in the annoyingly smug voice Merlin knew so well.

Oh he had missed him!

"Last I checked, Princes don't get bullied and ordered about by meaningless little idiots, as you seem to believe, lost in your grand daydreams as you are."

Merlin rubbed his hands through his hair, making it stick up even more then before.

Some things never change.

Merlin's grin faltered as a sudden thought struck him.

"Wait, Arthur, you being here is dangerous! If anyone sees you they will kill you! You need to leave right now!"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I thought we just established that I'm the one qualified both legally and mentally to be making the orders MERlin," Arthur whispered back.

Merlin shook his head adamantly, "Arthur you shouldn't be here, does your father even know you are here? You didn't sneak out like you always do?" Merlin stopped, thinking, and then added as a second thought, "No, what am I saying? You always needed me for that! You're too lazy."

Arthur glared at him, but the effect was lost on the bubbly manservant.

Why was everyone concerned for his safety today?

Arthur chose to tactfully ignore the insult- for now.

"Merlin, despite what you may think in your delusions, I am not here to rescue you!"

Merlin smiled at him disbelievingly, "'Course you wouldn't admit it. But you missed me Arthur, I can see it all over your face!"

Arthur shook his head stubbornly, "I did not! I am here on a mission from my father."

"Sure you are," Merlin said giddily, then added, "I really am grateful to you for coming all this way Arthur, but you need to go. You could get hurt!"

Arthur sighed irritably.

Why did he have to be so difficult?

"MERlin," Arthur said annoyed, "I will be perfectly alright! Besides, I can't go, I have to do something first."

Merlin smiled and pretended to go along with it, "Your mission," Merlin said bobbing his eyebrows, "And just what is your mission Arthur?"

Arthur suddenly became serious.

"I am sorry Merlin, but I am afraid you have been lied to."

Merlin gave him his best 'Are you off your knocker?' look.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur motioned to the two sleeping men.

"One of them, is an enemy of Camelot, a powerful sorcerer!"

Merlin suddenly became uneasy.

Something wasn't right.

He shook his head.

"No, no, Arthur, I am afraid you are mistaken! Neither of them could hurt a fly!"

'_Well, at least not a big fly,'_ Merlin added as an afterthought to himself, thinking of Bernard.

Arthur looked sympathetic.

"Merlin I am sorry, but one of them is a sorcerer."

Arthur took a deep breath and sighed.

"Now I really hate to do this Merlin, but please tell me truthfully."

Arthur motioned at the two men, "Which one of these two men, is Emrys?"

…

**Author's Note: *ducks head shamefully* Yes, I did it again… another cliffy. What can I say? It was just too tempting!**

**Well I had a lot of new people review that last chapter, so our list has grown quite a bit! OhHHHh excitement!**

**Thank you soo much… Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, The 10-11 Doctors, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, Micro Chibi Baka San, Ringo's imaginarycat, TaintedXIllusion, 104Arianna, Imperial Mint**, **Teenmuggle, Arbitrary9, Klester1987, Sydelle Rein, DragonGem777, SilverHeart09, DragonflyonBreak, BabyGlover, Kjate95, Hazelbunny, I Am Theta Sigma, Chibiotaku, Sesshouluver, Owl Watcher, HanaSolo, Jissai, CollinFan, Yabbit, and Bookaddict27!**

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**Love you all!**

**TTTs**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: No, we do not own Merlin… but our thieves are coming back with their report on their progress now… so we will keep you posted! :D**

**Author's Note: *Peeks head over top of barrier* Ok please don't kill me! *throws hands in air* I really did mean to update sooner- honest! It's just that well first I was kidnapped and then a dog ate my computer and after I got a new one a random asteroid fell out of the sky and blew it up, and then I got beat up by a vicious old lady and... and- you aren't buying this are you… oh, well, it was worth a try anyways :D But either way I do apologize for the wait, and I seriously was gone for quite some time. **

**And to everyone who has been messaging me I just want to say that you would be proud! I stayed up until 4:47 A.M. writing this… noble right? **

**Well Enjoy!**

**Chapter Twelve**

"_Now I really hate to do this Merlin, but please tell me truthfully."_

_Arthur motioned at the two sleeping men, "Which one of these two men, is Emrys?"_

Merlin's heart skipped a beat.

All color and laughter drained from his face as he stared at Arthur in uncomprehending horror.

His thoughts franticly started spinning in mindless circles of panic and confusion, but one emotion stuck out over all, and that was dull sadness.

His best friend was here to kill him. He didn't seem to know it yet, but he was.

He had failed. He was going to die, and he had failed his destiny.

Hadn't he?

How did Arthur even know about Emrys anyway?

Arthur gave Merlin a questioning look, and Merlin floundered as he realized his prince was waiting for an answer.

Mind blank, he let his mouth take over, and could only hope that it would magically construct the perfect response to save his life, or at least come up with something halfway articulate.

"Uhhhhhh," Merlin shifted on his mattress, wincing as his voice cracked, "What was that?"

From where he knelt, Arthur raised an eyebrow. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Merlin's shadowed form now looked unnaturally rigid.

He cleared his throat and quietly repeated himself.

"I said, which one of those two men is Emrys? Really Merlin, I thought that we established long ago that you aren't deaf. Dumb yes, but at least not deaf."

Merlin stared down at Arthur's teasing face uncomprehendingly.

Normally, he would have been able to think up some witty retort, but he had neither the inspiration, nor the will to do so now.

"Yeah, uhh, sorry," Merlin mumbled, his mind desperately racing for a way out of this seemingly inescapable problem he had somehow managed to blunder into.

Yet there was no way out.

He refused to betray Danen, and his conscience would not allow him to accuse Bernard, but coming forward with the truth and admitting who he was would be suicide.

Wouldn't it?

He forcefully attempted to calm his wild heartbeat and think coherently.

Arthur watched him and frowned.

"You're sorry? Huh, that's a first."

His manservant didn't glare at him, in fact, he hardly looked at him, and that worried Arthur more then anything.

"Hey, are you alright?" Arthur asked, poorly masked concern leaking into his voice, "You look even more sickly then usual."

Merlin attempted to pull himself together, and flashed his prince a happy grin, which Arthur saw through immediately.

"Oh yeah. You know me, I'm always alright!" Merlin replied with forced cheerfulness.

Arthur stared down at him disbelievingly. To think Merlin actually thought he could lie to him.

His eyes narrowed.

"You are in trouble aren't you?" Arthur asked probingly, and his manservant's startled expression said it all.

The question had caught Merlin off guard, and his eyes flew to Arthur's suspicious face. Was he really that readable?

"No, of course not," Merlin answered warily, his smile still intact.

"Merlin," Arthur drawled in mock condescension, "you are a terrible liar."

"Maybe, but I'm not lying this time," The raven headed boy replied, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"This time?" Arthur asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Never mind," Merlin mended quickly, then added in a placatory voice, "I'm fine Arthur."

Arthur was quiet for a moment, studying him, and then asked abruptly, "Has someone threatened you? Merlin if you are in danger, you know that you can tell me."

The concern was obvious in the Prince's voice, and despite himself Merlin felt his heart twinge bittersweet.

"Is that worry I hear? Oh Arthur, I always knew you cared," Merlin said, a genuine smile prodding at the corners of his mouth.

"Shut up Merlin, and tell me what's wrong," Arthur demanded, now a little irritably.

"How am I supposed to say anything when you just told me to shut up?"

"Well you are obviously having no problems with that handicap now are you?" Arthur asked in exasperation, "Now quit changing the subject."

"Sorry, what subject?" Merlin asked guilelessly.

"MERlin!"

"Sire?"

"Tell me who has threatened you, or upon entry to Camelot I will personally see that you are thrown into the stocks for what is left of your miserable life."

"No one is threatening me!" Merlin exclaimed stubbornly, then added a tad sardonically, "Well, besides you of course."

"Then what is it?" Arthur asked, his training in interrogation letting him know that Merlin was about to crack.

"Nothing."

"Merlin, stop lying to me."

"I am _not_, lying!" Merlin protested, his voice involuntarily rising slightly in pitch.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

All further prying into his guarded manservant's problems was cut short however by a quiet cough from Sir Kay who stood inside the door.

Regretfully, Arthur tore his eyes off his friend to look at the knight.

'_Right when I was beginning to make progress,'_ Arthur thought wryly.

"My apologies Sire," the knight said quietly, his gaze nervously surveying the dark hall outside, "but we must hurry."

Arthur nodded his head politely.

"Of course."

"Really Sire," Sir Kay said urgently, "It is almost day."

Startled, Arthur spun around towards the window at the corner of the room.

Already the sky was beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn, and the stars were beginning to dim, as they sensed their time was almost up. So was theirs.

Spurred into action, Arthur grasped the hilt of his sword with his right hand, and pulled a startled Merlin off the low bed with his left.

"Hey, wait…" Merlin began, but Arthur ignored him.

The sword slid out of its sheath smoothly, the well polished metal hardly making a sound.

With the sword, Arthur motioned at the two sleeping men.

"Time to go. Which one?" he asked quietly.

"Err, what?" Merlin asked, feigning ignorance.

"The sorcerer," Arthur said impatiently.

"What about him?" The raven headed boy asked innocently.

"MERlin!" Arthur exclaimed in exasperation, wondering what was wrong with the ludicrous idiot today.

"Yes?"

"Quit stalling."

"I'm not," Merlin replied, agitation once again beginning to show in his voice.

Arthur turned his head to look at him in confusion.

He then voiced his thoughts, "What is wrong with you today?"

Merlin shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet.

"Nothing, I… I just don't want to kill anyone, is all."

Arthur felt his heart sink, but stubbornly ignored the feeling.

Inwardly he berated himself for not anticipating this, for not knowing that Merlin would never stand for letting someone he knew get killed, no matter how evil.

"We don't have time to coddle your reservations Merlin," Arthur said impatiently, glancing at the sky, "Every second we waste one of my men could be found and killed, giving their lives to buy us more time. Now tell me, which one?"

Merlin stared hard at the floor, wishing it would swallow him.

No rescue came from the floor however, and Merlin was left to deal with his problems on his own.

He mumbled something to himself under his breath.

Unconsciously Arthur leaned forward, straining to make out his evasive servants ramblings.

"What was that? Merlin you are going to have to speak up," Arthur sighed, making a mental note to throttle the idiot later.

Merlin lifted his shoulders in an almost indiscernible gesture.

"I can't," Merlin repeated a little louder, his voice betraying the strain he was under, "I just can't say Arthur. Ok? Please, just, just trust me on this. I really can't."

Arthur stared at him blankly. For a second, Merlin thought that he saw genuine concern and confusion flicker across the Prince's face, but then it was gone and he was left to believe that he had imagined it.

"You can't?" Arthur repeated blandly, his eyes expressionless, and inwardly Merlin winced, experience alerting him as to what was coming.

"You, can't. You _can't_?" Arthur's voice began to rise, and Merlin widened his eyes and shook his head quickly, motioning towards the rooms sleeping occupants, trying his best to make covert hushing noises which Arthur stubbornly ignored.

"Camelot is in danger Merlin! He wants my father's head, and will stop at nothing to get it! He is a heartless murderer, a conniving coward, and a _filthy_ sorcerer, yet you defend him! Emrys must die, I have no choice and neither do you, now I command you to tell me who he is!"

"Arthur…" Merlin began desperately, but stopped at the look on his friends face.

Some distant part of his brain noticed Danen stir at the noise, but Merlin really couldn't bring himself to process the movement or care, as his emotions had begun to rage in an inward battle, tearing him apart.

Arthur's angry eyes bore into Merlin's panicked ones, and they locked.

For a second, Merlin almost cracked. He wanted more then anything to just break down and tell Arthur everything, who he was, what he had done, unbury his heart and lay it out. He was so, so tired of hiding, of locking up his problems and fears for none to see. He just wanted it all to go away, and here was his opportunity.

Yet something made him hesitate. The same question that always made him hesitate, and plagued him night and day.

What if the time was not right, and his destiny failed?

Then the tyranny would never end, neither would the hate, nor the death.

He couldn't let that happen.

Merlin's eyes sank to the floor, breaking the contact.

Beside him, Merlin heard a frustrated Arthur sigh, and felt his gaze leave him. The moment was gone.

…..

From his position in the corner, Danen lay entirely awake, shock and terror consuming all other emotions.

He had been awoken at the sound of an angry, blonde haired man's poorly muted exclamations, and had been forced to listen with growing horror.

"_Camelot is in danger Merlin! He wants my fathers head, and will stop at nothing to get it! He is a heartless murderer, a conniving coward, and a filthy sorcerer, yet you defend him! Emrys must die, I have no choice and neither do you, now I command you to tell me who he is!"_

Danen quickly squeezed his eyes shut as the man paraded around the room in his tirade, and wisely tried to keep his breathing neutral so that angry blonde man wouldn't know he was awake.

This task proved harder then he had expected, as his heart was making enough noise to wake a hibernating bear.

Possibly with the same results too.

This couldn't be helped however, and Danen couldn't really bring himself to care.

He was frightened, but the terror was for the life of a friend, not so much for himself. He wasn't the one about to die, but Emrys was.

That man was obviously here to kill him, or at least someone with his name- if Emrys even _was_ his name.

What had the large man called him? Marlin? Melrin?

Whomever the youth who had befriended him was, Danen found it really didn't matter, for right now, that same youth was in danger, and whether his name was Marlin or Emrys, Danen found rather irrelevant.

For now at least.

Of course, not that this personal revelation did him much good, as the strained silence that had now fallen over the room slowly lengthened into a dangerous one.

Emrys had yet to say a word, and Danen had to fight the urge to open his eyes and look at his friends face.

"Merlin…" The large blonde man began in a low, deceptively calm voice, but was cut off by the grating of steel on steel, followed by a loud, strangled gasp from the corridor outside.

…..

With the commotion, Arthur's instincts flickered to life and he bolted for the door, heart in his throat, but Sir Kay's body blocked the doorway and his outstretched hand forced him to skid to an abrupt halt.

"Forgive me Sire," The lithe knight whispered in a low voice, "but it is merely a guard, and we have taken care of him. Yet I fear that his comrades heard and are close behind him."

Arthur cursed under his breath.

They were out of time, and he had had enough of this.

Turning on his heel, Arthur deliberately marched back into the servants chambers, heading in a beeline for the sleeping form of Bernard.

If his useless excuse for a manservant, not to mention excuse for a _subject,_ wouldn't tell him who Emrys was, he might as well ask the two candidates.

….

From between half-slit eyelids, Danen watched the dark silhouette of the large man shake the redheaded youth awake with mounting horror.

This wasn't going to end well. How could it?

Danen heard Bernard groan and turn over, waving his arms.

"Go away," The youth whined in his sleep.

The blonde man just shook Bernard harder.

"Hey, wake up," the man demanded above him.

"No," Bernard mumbled stubbornly, half asleep, "You can't make me."

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked casually, reaching for a goblet of mead by Bernard's bedside.

"Quite," Bernard mumbled, and yelped as the contents of the goblet were poured deliberately on his head.

"Get, up," Arthur demanded simply, and grabbed the redhead by the ear.

Enraged into waking up, Bernard was finally pulled into a sitting position, and looked around him furiously.

"You idiotic imbecile!" The youth screeched, "You brainless cow! What is wrong with you-" Bernard broke off as he got his first good look at the man who had awoken him, and more importantly, got his first good look at the sharp piece of metal in that same man's hand. He wisely bit his lip.

The blonde man looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Morning," the scary intruder said conversationally, "What's your name?"

Bernard glared at him.

"Who's asking?"

"A brainless cow apparently," The man said, and lifted his sword in front of Bernard's nose, "Name?"

Bernard moodily wiped the mead off his face.

"I don't know what you want, but whatever you are here for, it has nothing to do with me. Everyone is always pointing fingers at me, blaming me for their problems, and I take it! You want to know why? Cause I am the best person who has ever walked the face of this earth, so whoever you are here to kidnap, it can't be me! Abduct one of them," Bernard gestured at Danen and Emrys, "They aren't important."

Bernard made to lie back down, but was quickly hauled back up by his hair.

"You can go back to sleep, but only after you tell me who Emrys is, then I will leave you alone," The blonde man said easily.

"Emrys?" Bernard asked sullenly, "That's all?"

From his position on the bed, Danen tensed.

Bernard didn't know what was going on, and he didn't have the intuition to figure it out.

Bernard was about to sentence Emrys to his death.

"Yes," the blonde man said amiably, "just tell me who he is."

Panicked, Danen's terrified brain grasped for solution to save him, convinced that he would do anything.

When the answer came to him however, Danen's shoulders slumped with defeat. He didn't really like that solution.

Danen tried to ignore the unpleasantly sick feeling in his stomach, and begged himself to forget about the idea.

He told himself it was a reckless, stupid plan, that it would never work and would only result in suicide.

He argued that there was no reason for him to really care anyway, that he had only known Emrys for a couple weeks, and that it was unreasonable to do so much for him.

He told himself to go back to sleep, and that it would all be over in the morning.

And he told himself, in no uncertain terms, to mind his own business.

Yet as Bernard lifted his hand to point in Emrys' direction, Danen's sagaciously brilliant advice flew out the window, and he sat straight up in bed, announcing in a voice that almost would have passed for bold if it hadn't cracked with fear, "It's me! I-I am Emrys!"

…...

Arthur turned towards the new voice in surprise, unceremoniously forgetting about the weird little redhead altogether, who happily went back to sleep, oblivious and uncaring about the world around him.

"What?" Arthur heard a confused Merlin ask from the other end of the room and then add in a more panicky voice, "Wait no! No, Arthur! He is lying!"

Arthur ignored his servant, and surveyed the man who had spoken.

He was young, just about as old as Merlin, with brown hair, brown skin, brown clothing, and although Arthur couldn't see his eyes clearly in the darkness of the room, he suspected that they would be brown as well.

All in all, there was nothing very remarkable about him, but Arthur knew that looks could be deceiving with sorcerers.

"You?" Arthur asked, beginning to advance upon him, sword outstretched.

The brown-headed youth hesitated, and then nodded affirmation.

"Danen what are you doing!" Merlin exclaimed in horror, but the man didn't look at him.

Instead he addressed Arthur, "Yes, it is me. Now, why do you ask?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"You want to kill my father, and I am here to make sure that never happens."

"Arthur! Wait no, you don't understand," Merlin exclaimed, suddenly in front of him, eyes wide.

"Stay out of this Merlin," Arthur commanded, flashing his manservant a quick glance as he moved him protectively to the side by his forearm.

"He is not Emrys, he doesn't know what he is saying!" Merlin protested, putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder, trying to get him to see sense.

Arthur angrily shook him off.

"Leave it Merlin. We both just heard him admit it with his own mouth," Arthur said grimly.

The prince pushed away from Merlin, gravely advancing upon Danen, who had leapt off his bed and was slowly backing up.

"No he didn't! Well maybe he did- but…"

"It's me," Danen lied calmly, deliberately giving Merlin a quick glance, telling him it was okay.

A lump formed in Merlin's throat. Why was he doing this for him? He didn't deserve it! He would _never_ deserve it.

"Please Arthur, just listen to me!" Merlin pleaded, his hands subconsciously clutching his hair, and even as he said the words he knew they fell upon deaf ears.

Arthur didn't hear him, or maybe, he just didn't want to.

Sickened, the raven headed boy watched as his friend cornered a man who was offering his life in exchange for his own, and suddenly, calmly, he realized it was time to finally tell the truth.

The boy's heart lurched in his stomach, and Merlin felt a dizzying sense of relief and anxiety, causing his breath to hitch and heart beat faster.

He didn't have to hide anymore. It was time for it all to come tumbling out. He could come forward… Arthur would finally know! He would be free!

Wouldn't he?

Merlin pushed back the doubt. This was for Danen.

Stumbling from fear and cautious happiness, Merlin moved forward to block Arthur's path, mainly to shield Danen but also because a small part of him knew that Arthur would take the news better if he could look him in the eye.

Determinedly, Merlin bounded in front of Arthur, ignoring the prince's angry exclamations, but as they made eye contact Merlin thought that maybe doing so hadn't been such a good idea after all. Arthur's angry, questioning, all-too-normal blue eyes made his heart jerk, bringing the enormity of what he was about to do descending upon his shoulders like a wave, and he panicked as he realized he couldn't find his voice.

Arthur made to roughly shove him to safety once again, but stopped as he saw the look on his manservant's face.

He frowned.

"What is it now Merlin?" Arthur asked impatiently, keeping one eye on Danen.

Merlin stiffened, and tried to regain his composure.

In the semi-darkness, Arthur gave him a pointed look

"Well?"

"Arthur…" Merlin began hoarsely, and cleared his throat.

His nerve began to scamper away, and it was all he could do to stay still.

Some sixth sense seemed to alert Arthur to the importance of what Merlin was about to say, something that had been tickling and taunting the back of his mind, forever out of his reach.

The prince looked at Merlin closer, now seeing the fear in his eyes and his determined stance.

"Well Merlin?" Arthur asked again, kinder this time.

Merlin was looking at the ground, yet abruptly, almost violently as Arthur watched, his shoulders straightened and his head came up.

"It is me," Merlin said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.

Arthur stared at him blankly.

"_What_ is you?" Arthur asked raising one eyebrow.

Merlin frowned, not wanting to elaborate. His hands were shaking, and he both dreaded and hoped for the moment Arthur figured out who he was.

"Emrys- Arthur, Emrys is me," Merlin said a little louder, forcing the words out.

The back of his neck was beginning to burn, and his palms sweat. He stubbornly pushed the terror away, telling himself that if Arthur didn't accept him now, he never would.

Arthur looked almost uncertain.

"What are you talking about Merlin?" Arthur demanded loudly, his sword unconsciously lowering as his attention was diverted.

Merlin felt a twinge of bitter relief as he realized he had the Prince's full attention.

"That," Merlin said enunciating every word, and motioning behind him, towards where Danen stood in the corner, "isn't Emrys. His name is Danen Gelonesson and he is just trying to protect me."

Arthur frowned slightly as he looked into Merlin's pleading eyes, not sure what the boy was saying, and an alarm telling him he didn't want to.

Merlin took Arthur's silence as an invitation to continue. He felt butterflies swarm in his stomach, his mind not yet fully believing what he was about to do.

"Arthur," Merlin said, in a voice that was barely a whisper, "I am Emrys. I am the one you are looking for, and I, nobody else, am the one you are here to kill."

Arthur stared at Merlin.

Denial, shock, and not a little fear landed in his heart, making it cold.

He slowly shook his head in disbelief, not saying a word.

His face twisted ever so slightly and his head lowered as he stared at the blade of his sword, his eyes confused.

Slowly, so very slowly, his gaze shifted back to a Merlin, who could feel himself trembling.

"No," Arthur said softly, then shook his head adamantly, almost fearfully, "No, you can't be."

Merlin smiled sadly, heart twisting from the confusing feeling of being exposed. The exhilaration of it almost outweighed the fear.

"No Arthur, I really am. Trust me," Merlin said quietly, unsure whether to laugh or cry, "I am Emrys."

"You are Merlin," Arthur said forcefully, still shaking his head, "My _friend_."

Merlin laughed, the sound coming off as a half choked sob as he realized that this was the first, and more then likely the last time he was ever going to hear Arthur say that to him.

"Yeah, Arthur," Merlin said with a watery smile, "Yes I am."

Arthur stared at him hard, and Merlin could see denial in every line of his body.

"You are lying," Arthur whispered hoarsely, his confused eyes searching Merlin's sad ones, "Merlin tell me you are lying!"

Merlin shook his head once, a lump in his throat.

"I am not," Merlin said unsteadily, not trusting his voice to say more. He knew that what was about to happen would not be easy on him, and breaking down would just make it worse. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

"Yes you are!" Arthur said angrily, but the fear in his eyes made Merlin flinch.

Frantic, Arthur swiveled around, turning on a startled Danen with his sword outstretched.

"You have enchanted him," Arthur said tightly, unable to look at Merlin's face, "It is the only way you could get Merlin to admit treason."

Danen stared into Arthur's angry eyes cautiously, trying to decide on the best way to answer him.

'_Act like a sorcerer would_,' Danen told himself firmly, _'I won't just stand by and let Emrys die.' _

"Of course I did," Danen replied smugly, trying simultaneously to laugh confidently, "and I will only take it off of him if you promise to let me go, and not harm me."

Arthur glared at him condescendingly, but couldn't help the slump of his shoulders as newfound relief descended upon him like a warm blanket.

Merlin wasn't Emrys… He really was still innocent old Merlin- his friend. And that if nothing else, would never change.

"Take it off him," Arthur demanded now boldly, striding forward and glaring hotly at Danen, "You have no right to do this to _my_ servant! Release the enchantment or the breath you carry now will be your last!"

"Arth-" Merlin began, terrified, but was cut off by a stubborn prince.

"Not now Merlin!"

Danen stubbornly shook his head.

"I will not until you give me your word that you will let me go," He replied almost calmly.

Arthur lifted his head.

"I will give you no such honor, sorcerer," Arthur said proudly, spitting the last word out in a way that made Merlin wince.

"Then I will not release the enchantment," Danen replied simply.

Arthur's eyebrows rose.

Only Merlin saw the prince's body language change ever so subtly, and alarm bells began shouting warnings in his head as he realized what Arthur was about to do.

"Arthur no!" Merlin protested, running forward, his fear for Danen becoming a cold spike in his chest, "You can't! You don't understand… I am not enchanted… Danen can no more enchant me then he can defend himself!"

An unexpected crash and a shout of alarm from outside the chamber's door made Merlin's heart lurch in surprise and Arthur jump.

"Sire!" A voice shouted from the hallway, "They have found us!"

The voice was cut off, morphing into a strangled groan, followed by more shouting and the sound of steel scraping on steel.

Sir Allen burst through the door. His face was cut and armor bloodstained.

"My Prince!" He yelled hoarsely, "You must kill the sorcerer now!"

A man clad in the black uniform of the soldiers of Cendred's Kingdom appeared behind the burly knight, a sword glinting red in the light of a nearby lantern poised in his hand, and it hovered in the air as he was preparing for the killing blow that he would send at the unsuspecting knight's exposed neck.

"Allen!" Arthur screamed, fear clotting in his stomach as the swordsman swung.

Allen ducked and threw himself backwards, barreling into the black clad soldier, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Three more soldiers of Escetia stormed into the room, stumbling slightly over the scrambling bodies of Allen and his attacker.

They distinguished Arthur almost immediately as the most imminent threat, and with a throaty war cry that made the hairs on the back of Merlin's neck stand on end, hurtled towards the arms of the waiting prince.

Arthur lightly skipped to the side as the first soldier reached him, the man's clumsy jab passing harmlessly by his forearm. Arthur turned the easy movement into a complete pivot, and kicked at the back of the soldier's legs, causing him to fall in a hapless heap to the ground.

"Arthur!" Merlin's desperate voice yelled, and the prince recognized the warning in his tone and instictively looked for an attacker.

The glint of torchlight reflecting off steel flashed in the corner of Arthur's vision, causing his head to snap to the right.

A cold blade was cutting through the air at eye level towards his face, and Arthur's blood froze. Without even having to asses the situation Arthur knew that he could not move away in time, and was at death's door. The sword was just inches away with nothing to block it, moving in slow motion towards his head. He tried to lift his sword, but it moved even slower then the soldier's.

He was going to die.

A fraction of a second before the honed weapon collided with Arthur's face, the man cried out in pain and the sword left his grasp, sending the dreaded blade flying through the air, only stopping when its hilt hit the temple of another Escetian soldier with a sickening crunch. The man crumpled to the ground senseless.

Arthur stared, eyes wider then usual with shock as he surveyed the damage his most recent stroke of luck had caused.

He was still alive! As impossible as it was, he was still standing, and his attacker had fallen. He felt almost dizzy with relief.

Once again there was that irritating thought, or beginning of a thought, tickling the back of his mind, an idea that he could never quite grasp, forever out of his reach.

"The sorcerer!" Sir Borch voice screeched from the hallway, "Just _kill_ the wretched thing… If I may say Sire."

Arthur regained his composure and quickly scanned the room's occupants, knowing Sir Borch was right. His eyes alighted almost immediately on the so-called-sorcerer. The man stood nearby, back pressed against the cold stone walls, trying to hide in their shadows.

'_Typical,'_ Arthur thought scathingly, '_Just like sorcerers to cower in dark corners while people are dying.' _

The brown headed man wasn't looking at him now, and as Arthur slowly began advancing, keeping his movement subtle, the man didn't notice a thing. He seemed to be in shock.

"No Athur! No please stop! You can't!" Merlin's pleas rang loudly in the chaotic clangs and shouts disturbing the once peaceful little room.

The brown headed sorcerer heard Merlin's cries and looked up just in time to see Arthur approaching, weapon in hand.

Startled, Danen yelped and retreated to the other end of the room, Arthur now hot on his heels.

Danen skidded to an abrupt halt as a soldier of Cendred's kingdom swung his sword wildly at a knight, the blade cutting a hairsbreadth away from Danen's nose.

Unnerved and adrenaline searing in his veins, Danen dove around the man and fled as fast as he could away from the Prince of Camelot, only to be met with the very discouraging sight of a stone wall blocking his path.

He instinctively dove to the right, only to be met with another wall.

Dead end.

Fighting the urge to close his eyes, Danen slowly turned around, heart sinking as he saw the grim blonde headed face of the Prince standing before him.

"Arthur please!" Merlin begged, now standing beside his Prince, pleading. "Danen isn't a sorcerer! He couldn't hurt anyone!"

Arthur looked genuinely upset. He turned his head to look at his pleading manservant and felt a surge of affection.

"I really am sorry Merlin," Arthur said seriously, "But this is for my Father, and this is for Camelot."

With that Arthur closed in the gap between himself and Danen with one large bound, drawing his sword back in the smooth motion that had been drilled into him since he could barely walk.

Danen shrunk back against the wall, terror in his eyes as he realized that this was the end. That this was the last moment of his life.

"No!" Merlin screamed.

The sword fell, slicing downwards towards the male servant's unprotected body with a finality that would have made executioners flip over in their graves.

But it never reached its mark.

As Arthur was inwardly wincing at the sickening thought of killing someone who was truly nothing more then a boy, he felt his hand clamp up, tightening until he couldn't move, and the feeling stabbed upward through his arm, numbing and freezing his shoulder, traveling into his legs, and then lastly his other arm.

He was stuck.

'_Magic,'_ Arthur thought in disgust, trying to be angry to distract himself from the sinking feeling of fear in his heart. He had been wondering why the sorcerer was not using the black art, and had almost believed that his never failing luck would save him once again. Apparently he had been wrong.

Arthur shook off his fanciful thoughts and began squirming desperately, lunging with everything he had to get free.

Yet as much as he twisted and jerked, it was to no avail, and Arthur began to feel panicky with the sensation of not being able to move, and claustrophobia began to take hold.

Before him, still hunched over with his eyes closed and hands held over his head stood the brown headed sorcerer, and Arthur wondered bitterly why the man was still cowering, why he hadn't killed him already, when the prince was obviously so vulnerable.

Slowly the sorcerer opened one eye, involuntarily wincing as if expecting a sword to come out of nowhere.

Yet as he began to realize that by some miracle he was still alive, his tightened muscles hesitantly loosened and his face slowly cleared, causing him to straighten up, looking purely shocked.

"Wha-" the sorcerer began but stopped, stunned speechless.

Arthur noticed he was trembling.

"Go on," The Prince said in a low voice, determined not to cower, "I can't do anything to stop you. Just get it over with."

The sorcerer did not answer and as Arthur warily watched his terrified face, he realized that the man's eyes were not on him at all, but on something behind him.

Confused, but with the indomitable feeling of hope rising once again Arthur began to turn his head, but what the brown headed man breathed next made his heart lurch to a stop, his brain reeling.

"Emrys?" Danen asked wide eyed, looking slightly dazed. Then his face split into a tearful smile, "Thank you."

Arthur's head spun as far as he could in the direction Danen was looking, dread a cold leaden weight in his chest as suspicion and half-made assumptions that shouldn't even be an option formed in his mind, polluting it.

As his eyes alighted on the sight before them and all the suspicions became hard reality Arthur's emotions and feelings split in half, raging against one another in an aching, hurtful battle, blatant denial becoming all the more stubborn in the light of the unrelenting truth. The chaotic clash of the weapons dimmed, and the hoarse throated war cries coming from scores of beaten men stilled as all eyes turned to watch, in awe, anger, and not very well hidden fear.

Merlin stood before his Prince, eyes ablaze with golden flames and murmuring quietly to himself in the black language no decent person should know, causing a thin white light to come shining out of his outstretched hand, falling on the center of Arthur's back, holding him firmly in place.

Arthur slowly shook his head, in one last loyal denial.

"No," Arthur said softly, numb, "no."

Arthur dully saw Merlin's shoulders slump ever so slightly at his words and the golden fire in his eyes dimmed, then extinguished all together, taking the white light shooting from his hand with it.

Merlin stumbled slightly but his hand was seemingly forgotten and remained outstretched, so when Merlin finally looked up to be met with Arthur's rejecting eyes, he quickly withdrew his hand as if he had been burned.

"Arthur…" Merlin whispered softly, but his voice cracked and the Prince had to watch the painful process of him regaining control, "I'm sorry."

Without waiting for his reply, Merlin jerkily dropped his hands by his sides and without saying a word, snapped his fingers, and then stood motionless. Every eye was now upon him, waiting, and an unsettling silence descended upon the room.

For a moment, nothing happened, then without warning the spears, swords, and crossbows the Escetian's were wielding began to glow. A pure, pulsing light started to fill the room, emanating from the glowing weapons, which began to grow white hot and the soldier's yelped and dropped them, fear in their eyes.

The light got brighter and brighter, causing every last shadow lurking in the forgotten corners to flea, men to cover their faces and hide from the pulsing light.

The ground began to tumble and shake, in sync with the beating of the inescapable light, and men cried out in terror, for they knew they could do nothing to defend themselves.

Arthur stumbled where he stood as the quaking became worse, unable to keep his footing.

An ear splitting crack shook the room, knocking men over with the force of it, and Arthur's heart did a summersault as he felt himself falling, no, more like gliding through the pulsing light, all sound muffled in it's warm rays.

Then abruptly it all came to an end and Arthur tumbled into a dirty alley, three hundred yards from the castle.

Arthur winced as the back of his head smacked against the slimy, damp stones, and flinched involuntarily at the sharp clang ringing in the alley as Merlin and the knights arrived only seconds after him, not there one minute, and within the blink of an eye flashing into existence meters above the ground the next, hitting the stones with a sickening thud.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut as his head throbbed and he rolled onto his side, fighting off a wave of nausea.

He clutched his head and waited for the feeling to subside, taking quick, shallow breaths.

Yet as his heart calmed and his stomach finally decided to return to its usual living chambers, Arthur groaned and slowly staggered to his feet, hearing his knights quietly cursing under their breaths as they followed his example.

Merlin however remained quiet, almost unnaturally so as he shakily regained his footing, keeping his eyes down.

Arthur leaned exhausted against a wall, and watched him, eyes narrowed.

Nobody in the alley said a word.

Merlin stood in the center of the street, trembling slightly, and as Arthur slowly straightened up and stepped closer to him, jaw locked, the boy still did not look up.

"What was that Merlin?" Arthur asked quietly, bitterly, and when Merlin didn't respond he lunged at him, twisting his arm behind his back and slamming his manservant into an alley wall.

"What was that?" Arthur shouted, unable to control the aching betrayal that laced his words. Merlin didn't struggle.

"Arthur…" The raven headed boy began, but stopped, not wanting to break in front of him. The prince however was no fool, and had heard the crack in his manservant's voice. He slammed him harder against the wall.

"It's Your Highness, to you," Arthur spat out bitterly, "You may not address me by my name, especially as you have been lying about yours."

"Please," Merlin gasped out, hiding his face, "Just let me explain."

"Who even are you?" Arthur demanded angrily, his voice thick, "What do you want?"

"I would like to know the answer to that myself," A thin voice asked from behind them.

Startled, Arthur dropped Merlin and spun around, unsheathing his sword, and the alley rang with the sharp sound of metal scraping on metal as his knights did likewise, hearts in their throats.

Yet the sight that met them was an average one, a forked alleyway, muddy stones, shifting, dipping shadows, but no man.

The men shifted uncomfortably, and Arthur got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that voice.

"Where are you?" Arthur called into the darkness, mimicking himself from times past.

"I'm here," the voice replied from directly beside him, causing Merlin to yelp and fling himself around.

Arthur however was a bit more composed, and turned on the voice with his sword outstretched.

His heart lurched as his eyes alighted on the man, his suspicions confirmed as he saw the black cloak the man wore, covering his face.

"You," Arthur said angrily, memories of dead comrades still fresh in his mind.

The man laughed.

"Well well, if it isn't the little Prince of Camelot," The man said mockingly, "We had thought you were dead."

Merlin frowned.

"Arth…" Merlin began, but caught himself, deep sadness in his eyes, but continued a little awkwardly anyway, "Sire… Who is this?"

The Prince began to reply, but the black cloaked sorcerer cut him off.

"Me and your little friend had a petty little run-in in the woods a few days ago, nothing that you must concern yourself with young warlock," The man said carelessly, making Arthur flinch with the flippant way he referred to a night that still gave him nightmares. By the angry muttering of his men, he knew that his knights agreed.

"The real question," The sorcerer continued amiably, "Is who are you? And even more importantly I believe, who do you _want_ to be?"

"That's a stupid question," Merlin muttered under his breath, but no one seemed to hear him besides Arthur, who snorted in spite of himself.

"My name is Merlin," He said instead, glaring at the man he knew must have hurt his friend very deeply, "Now what is that to you?"

"Ah, Merlin," The sorcerer repeated knowingly, in a way that caused Arthur to subconsciously step in front of his manservant, "That is your name yes. But I am not so naïve to believe that that is who you truly are Emrys."

The sorcerer leaned a bit to the side and surveyed Merlin's sad eyes and tight face, sounding almost sympathetic.

"Am I right in assuming Merlin has been rejected? If I am I would think that there would be far too much pain in that name and that life to bear to live it any longer."

Merlin didn't respond, but the man saw that he had hit a sore spot.

"No," the sorcerer continued quietly, "I definitely think it is time for a change. Throw away Merlin, Emrys, and be who you were born to be."

Merlin rolled his eyes, surprising the man.

"Who I was born to be? And who is that… exactly?" The raven headed boy asked with his eyebrows raised.

The sorcerer smiled beneath his hood. This was going well.

"A ruler of all. A maker and destroyer of kingdoms and lives, the one that had been prophesied through the ages to come… the most deadly and powerful sorcerer of all time. A man who has whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he has to get it. Join with me Emrys, for that is who you are, and don't bother fighting fate. It will come to pass as I have said."

Merlin couldn't help it. He laughed.

The feeling felt hollow however, void of happiness.

He felt Arthur's disbelieving eyes on him as he answered.

"I think you may have me confused with someone else. What I want doesn't matter, and even if it did, who I am would remain the same. I don't _want _a fate of destruction. I don't _like_ the idea of hurting people to get to the top. The thought of killing someone scares me… that is not me."

The man cocked his head at him, then asked simply, "How long do you think that will last? You are not _wanted_ Merlin. Your friends are now the ones who want you dead… how long do you really believe you can remain the ever loving, ever caring friend? If you continue on that path, it will only end in pain."

Merlin shook his head, and answered quietly, "Then so be it."

The sorcerer was silent for a moment, watching him.

"Then so be it," The man echoed finally, and stepped back, making a hand signal Merlin didn't notice but made Arthur tense.

"_Run!"_ The prince shouted, but before any of them had a chance to take another breath the scraping sound of metal boots filled the alleyway as they were surrounded by men with weapons drawn on all sides, cornering them in the alley with no way to escape.

Arthur cursed and shot a quick look at Merlin, whose face was pale. Still the useless manservant.

"Then take the way of pain Merlin," The man said, still backing up, "You have chosen it, and it will come unrelentingly. I may even help it along."

Arthur's jaw locked.

Nobody, and he meant nobody, was allowed to hurt his servant, but him.

"You may find that more difficult then you think," he said quietly to himself.

Merlin was talking to the man again.

"So may I at least have the pleasure of knowing who my soon to be killer's name is?" He asked almost cheerfully.

The sorcerer stopped a little before he reached the lines of his men and slowly withdrew his hood, revealing an entirely hairless head, his eyes black pools of hate.

The man held out his hand and an orange flame began bouncing playfully in the air above it.

"My name," The sorcerer replied with a chuckle, "Is Maggot."

The orange light left Maggot's hand, and struck Merlin's neck.

Pain exploded in front of Merlin's eyes, causing him to cry out and crumple to the ground, his vision red. He felt like he was burning… and freezing at the same time. Every single cell in his body burned with raw, unrelenting pain. He should have died, Merlin just knew that no one should be able to survive an attack like this. Shouldn't have to. His throat felt raw and he knew he was screaming, but he couldn't hear himself. He vaguely heard his name shouted, then shouted again.

He wanted to die… he couldn't die. He was stuck, in this never-ending torture.

Then… he felt something different.

Warmth, a softness filled his heart, a power. The power was screaming… but not from pain. It was screaming at him.

It was trying to tell him something… something important.

He just couldn't figure out what it was.

It began pounding in his veins, opening up his senses, and he was now able to hear the clash of weapons, and the shouts of men in battle.

The pounding got worse, the pulsing of his magic in his head, all trying to tell him something.

'_Arthur_.'

He could almost feel it, sense it, touch it. What was it trying to say?

'_Arthur!_'

His stomach clenched, in a way it always did when someone he cared about was in danger... Arthur!

He needed to save him!

White exploded in his head with a roar, and his eyes snapped open.

He almost fainted with relief as he realized the pain was gone. Yet he could see blackness blurring the edges of his vision, and he knew that he was about to once again lose consciousness.

But he couldn't, not yet.

He had a prince to save.

The alley was reverberating with the screams of men, and the noise pierced through Merlin's head, making him wince.

He was lying crumpled on the ground, and from there he had a rather limited view of what was happening- but nevertheless, what he saw made him grow cold.

The knights were fighting but some of them were scattered, and one of them had already died, his blood seeping out forgotten on the cobblestones.

In the midst of the fighting, Maggot stood calmly, arm outstretched and fingers making a claw-like motion upward.

Merlin followed his gaze.

Suspended in the air, clutching his throat hung Arthur, just as he had in the woods days ago.

Something in Merlin snapped.

He had had it.

No more death.

Thunder rolled in the sky above, as black storm clouds gathered together, twisting and swirling in the predawn sky.

Lightning lit up the heavens, and the soldiers glanced nervously upwards, while the knights glanced suspiciously at Merlin.

The sky groaned, the hairs on the back of everyone's necks stood on end, and Maggot noticed what was happening just a second too late.

A brilliant streak of light shot down from the sky, striking Maggot in the chest, causing him to shudder and collapse to the ground, shaking.

Arthur fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and the Escetian soldiers cried out in terror at the sight of their leader, writhing on the damp stones.

"Sire!" Sir Allen yelled, running to his Prince's aid and helping him to his feet, "If I may say Milord, I do believe that now is the time to- " The crash of more men coming to aid their comrades broke him off, and Allen half dragged the Prince away.

"My thoughts exactly," Arthur mumbled.

Merlin felt strong hands grab him, and he was thrown over a shoulder.

From his position hanging upside-down Merlin saw the city's muddy houses and horse reeking roads pass by beneath him, as his barer sprinted him away.

His head and heart reeled from shock over the last couple of minutes, disbelieving and sickened, but also with a thread of hope. Maybe all was not truly lost after all.

Nevertheless, Maggot's words haunted him.

It will all end in pain.

**Author's note: Dun dun dunnnnnn… Ok so how was it? I do hope it was worth the wait… no? I'm hurt. :D **

**Anyways I just want to thank you guys so much for all the feedback for the last chapter, it made us feel all warm and fuzzy inside! **

**Sooo thanks again… Notquitebezerk,(no steak? Really?) Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, The 10-11 Doctors, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, Micro Chibi Baka San, Ringo's imaginarycat, TaintedXIllusion, 104Arianna, Imperial Mint**, **Teenmuggle, Arbitrary9, Klester1987, Sydelle Rein, DragonGem777, SilverHeart09, DragonflyonBreak, BabyGlover, Kjate95, Hazelbunny, I Am Theta Sigma, Chibiotaku, Sesshouluver, Owl Watcher, HanaSolo, Jissai, CollinFan, Yabbit, Bookaddict27, Nekomata Hanyou, xLadyxAmbrosiusx, Moonchild08, Acklesaddict, Mel, NoReallyIDontCare, MissOrange8587, Kaykit, Jayley, CM, Ellie, Lindaaa, Kitty O, Noelle, Dor, WaffleDragon, Tagrea, 98Penguin, LikeIdTellU, Magicflower23684, and Highlord24! Whew! Oh and I do want to apologize in advance if I have entirely butchered any of your names… Do know that it was not intentional- mostly :D**

**Thank you guys very much for sticking with us this long, whether you have reviewed or not! You don't know how much it means to us!**

**Cheers! And to all of you, don't forget to have an amazing day!**

**TTTs**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: Hey everyone! *sees angry mob* So. How's it going? Kids good? Hope so, I love kids… *stalls* errr, anyways, how's the weather? Sleep well last night? *Stalls some more* I hope so, I love sleep… ok, look, no reason to get violent! I tried to update, but life has kidnapped me! But never fear, the ransom note is on its way!**

**Ok… I suppose I have to say it *braces myself* I… I am- I am sorry! Ahhh, I feel so much better now!**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

Chapter 13

The man half limped half ran through the semi-lit woods, stumbling over broken logs and ducking a second too late under overhanging branches.

Every cell in his body burned, sending red hot daggers into his skull.

He should be dead, but death refused him.

Just ahead, the man could make out the faintest of white lights through the trees, and hastily staggered towards it.

His breath was ragged and uneven, and a painful cramp was developing in his side. Just a little further… just a little longer…

Abruptly, the elm forest came to an end, sending the man stumbling forward.

He skidded to a halt, chest heaving, wrapping his arms around himself as he gasped for breath. Doubled over, his eyes flickered upward, quickly taking in his surroundings.

He was in a clearing.

A surreal, ghostly light danced eerily around him, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, casting the forest in a dreamlike state… constantly shifting, changing, turning…

The man fought the desire the fall to the ground and retch.

"My Lady!" He gasped out, calling into the empty clearing, "My Lady I have failed! Emrys is not the leader we thought he was, and is cowering behind his master's skirts. He refuses to join us, and is a traitor to our kind… My Lady? My Lady can you hear me?"

"I am here," a soft voice answered from behind him.

The man weakly turned his head, catching a glimpse of the fair skinned beauty from the corner of his eye.

Bracing himself, the man straightened up, wincing in pain as he forced himself to turn around.

The sight that greeted him, would have taken a lesser man's breath away.

A tall, heartrendingly beautiful lady stood proudly in the clearing, her elegant face cast in the pale light, her silver dress glimmering unnaturally.

It was rumored that all who looked upon her were cast under her spell, where they would do anything her heart desired to please her, even if meant them falling on their own sword.

He told himself he didn't believe it, but at times like this he wondered.

At the moment, that faultless face was forming a look of mild surprise.

"Maggot?" the smooth voice of Morgause asked, "for heaven's sake, what has happened to you?"

Maggot scowled.

"Emrys," he ground out weakly, his hatred for the man pouring through into that one word, "As I said, he is not one of us. He is loyal to Camelot, and Camelot alone."

Morgause tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Loyal to Camelot?" the sorceress asked, frowning, "What are you talking about Maggot? Morgana said the letter clearly stated that Emrys hates Uther as much as we ourselves do, if not more. She has never been mistaken before…"

Maggot hurriedly shook his head, pushing off a wave of nausea.

"He doesn't have to be loyal to Uther, he isn't his manservant, but Prince Arthur's!" Morgause's eyes snapped onto him sharply, but the man didn't seem to notice as he was overcome by a fit of coughing, the violent, racking coughs that shake your entire body.

"Prince Arthur's manser… Merlin? Maggot, I don't think you quiet grasp what you are saying!"

Maggot's now irritable eyes looked up at her from where he was bent doubled over.

"The boy is Emrys My Lady," the man rasped out, "trust me, I have seen what he can do myself. He can call down fire from the sky without the lift of a finger!"

Morgause was shaking her head almost imperceptibly, her mind racing behind the cold mask of her face.

"It is not possible," The sorceress murmured to herself, her eyes leaving the shell of a man before her to roam in the fathomless distance.

Merlin… the stupid oaf that couldn't even walk in a straight line. The infuriating idiot who always seemed to be in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.

Morgause had always known there was something not quite right about him, something off, and if she looked him directly in the face, as she had the day she had first met him, she could see something more, something hidden, something lurking right behind the eyes…

"Then again," The sorceress said softly to herself, "maybe it is."

Then her face cleared and her gaze snapped back to Maggot.

"Ok, maybe you are right," Morgause said evenly, hiding beautifully her irritation at having to admit it, "But in that case, what reason does he have to be loyal to a dead prince? Does he want revenge? Money? What can possibly be hindering him from joining us? We are his people, his kin."

Maggot dodged her gaze, finding something very interesting in the soil beneath him.

His time was out… He couldn't avoid the subject any longer.

"My Lady," the man began, nervously clearing his throat, "Prince Arthur… he isn't dead, I had thought he was, but apparently he escaped into the woods when the dragon attacked. I myself only found out last night, when I saw him for myself in Cendred's kingdom… please, I don't know what happened…"

Maggot inwardly braced himself, awaiting the both verbal and physical onslaught he knew he would be receiving at any moment now. One could not give Morgause bad news, and expect to end the conversation unscathed… except perhaps Morgana, who could do no wrong in the sorceress's eyes.

So Maggot was surprised to put things mildly when Morgause smiled.

"Ahhh," the lady chuckled, "He isn't dead? I see. Well, I do think that we can work this to our advantage… go, inform Bayard that it is time."

…..

'_He could hear drums. They vibrated in the air, shaking his insides but doing nothing to loosen the knot of panicky fear in his stomach. He was being roughly forced onto a wooden platform from behind, and he barked his shins on the rough edge. He stifled a small noise, and clamped his jaw, not wanting to appear so vulnerable in his last moments._

_Already on the platform, a man with large muscles and rough hands hauled him the rest of the way to the top, and daftly began tying him to a post, scarcely looking at him. Merlin leaned his head back against the brittle wood and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the crowd around him, trying to shut out his problems, telling himself that soon it would all be over. He just had to last a couple more minutes._

_The drums quieted and Merlin heard a hard voice begin to list off the charges against him. His breathing quickened but he didn't look up, and tried not to listen. He knew what the king said by heart and he found no reason to torture himself. _

_The voice bled through his defenses however, bringing the reality of what was about to happen descending upon him with a sickening clarity. He felt himself trembling, on the verge of tears .He was so, so scared._

_The cold voice of Uther finished listing the charges, and confirmed just incase someone may have forgotten that magic was evil and not to be tolerated in his lovely civilization of murderers._

_Everyone was so ignorant! So… lost._

_The drums started up again at a faster pace, causing Merlin's heart to do a painful summersault and clutch with terror._

_This was it. His time was up. He would never walk, or breathe, or smile, or laugh, or see his loved ones again._

_Never again!_

_Despite as much as he had told himself to keep his eyes closed, Merlin felt the urgent, desperate desire to see their faces._

_He had to. Just one more time._

_Knowing he would regret it but the need to be comforted the most prevalent emotion, Merlin opened his eyes._

_A silent, solemn crowd of grim faces and wide-eyed children met him._

_The burly man beside him was handed the lit torch from an approaching guard, and Merlin's terror turned cold._

_Insides going nuts he desperately cast his eyes about for just one last glance at his friends, at the people he cared about. _

_His gaze alighted on Gaius, face older then Merlin had ever seen him, eyes sadder. He remained motionless in the crowd, refusing to go inside._

_He wanted to be there for him, even if it meant all he could do was be the one caring face in a sea of indifference._

_Gaius locked eyes with him, and Merlin felt a lump rise in his throat._

_Gaius nodded his head once, slowly, firmly._

_It was a nod of goodbye._

_Tearing his eyes away, he quickly made sure Gwen wasn't watching. _

_It may push him beyond even his breaking point to know that she had to see this._

_He scanned the growing crowd with hesitant relief, hoping against hope he wouldn't see her all-too-familiar brown complexion and yellow dress._

_He refused to look at one particular spot in the crowd however, a spot where a certain blonde headed prince stood._

_He couldn't face him._

_And in a moment he would never have to._

_The drums beating got even faster, and the crowd shifted in a wave of anticipation._

_The torchbearer stepped off the platform and held the flame above the dry wood, taking a moment of silence for the accused._

_Satisfied that Gwen wasn't looking, Merlin's eyes drifted on their own volition to the dancing flames, and locked on them, hypnotized._

_Right as the arm fell however, dropping the flame with a dramatic flare and sickening finality, Merlin's panicked eyes dashed towards his Prince's, unable to withhold his longing any longer._

_He wanted to be forgiven, not saved, just forgiven._

_Arthur was standing at the back of the crowd, head erect, jaw clenched. _

_As Merlin's gaze locked onto his Prince's for the last time, he saw the bitter, confused eyes narrow, and flinch away. _

_The flames were rising around him, eating away at the wood, and right before they engulfed him, Merlin finally let himself cry._

_There was no forgiveness in Arthur's eyes._

_Just biting sadness, and disappointment.' _

Merlin's eyes snapped open and he yelped, skittering backward on the hard ground as a bearded face filled his vision.

Sir Allen jumped in surprise, looking almost as startled as the boy he had been leaning over to check on.

"Now now lad," The knight rebuked the flustered warlock, standing up and dusting the dirt off his trousers, "None of that."

Merlin had the grace to look sheepish, and tried to calm his beating heart and deep breathing, shaking the nightmare from his vision. Merlin felt wetness in his eyes, and realized how much that dream had affected him.

It had felt so real.

His head slowly began to clear and to his bewilderment Merlin realized that he was in the woods.

Birds were chirping, and the sunlight filtering down through the treetops high above lighted on the dust motes drifting through the air.

Sir Allen watched him warily, weight on his toes.

Merlin hesitantly sat up and stared around the deserted clearing he was laying in, smoke stinging his eyes as the breeze blew it lazily towards him from the small campfire at the center of the camp.

It looked… peaceful.

The atmosphere so contradicted his emotions and frantic thoughts that Merlin vaguely wondered if it was mocking him.

The clearing was empty besides Sir Allen and himself, which he found he was grateful for, because Merlin didn't think he had it in him right now to face Arthur.

The hurt, almost sad look on the prince's face when he had realized the truth was still engraved in Merlin's memory, and it ached.

"Err, sorry," The raven headed sorcerer replied to Sir Allen uncomfortably, all too aware of the wary posture and careful movements the older knight was giving him.

"You just scared me is all," Merlin finished, sadness creeping into his voice now, as he knew how ridiculous that sentence would sound after what the man had witnessed.

The knight surveyed the boy's stricken face for a moment, making Merlin shift.

"Not a problem boy," Sir Allen said gruffly and turned around, wandering towards the campfire.

"Hungry?" He asked conversationally, his gaze drifting casually back towards the dejected boy.

"Uhh, not really," Merlin answered uneasily, not trusting his stomach to be even a little reliable in its twisting, terrified state, "But thanks."

Sir Allen grumbled something under his breath, leaning over to spoon a ladle full of stew into a crude bowl, and glanced up at Merlin.

"Don't thank me, you are going to eat anyway," The knight replied unsympathetically.

Merlin wisely chose not to argue, and his fingers absently began plucking at the sparse grass growing in small clusters on the ground.

An uncomfortable knot of worry sat hard in his chest, causing Merlin to both dread, and wish for Arthur's return.

He needed to know where they stood, and he needed to know what Arthur was going to do with him.

He knew it may be a little too much to even hope for forgiveness.

The ladle clanged against the pot as Sir Allen finished serving the stew, and the knight straightened up and walked towards one of the provision bags, bowl in hand.

A stream gurgled not too far away, but its soft sounds did nothing to calm the sickened sorcerer.

"Where is he?" Merlin asked, his voice small.

The knight ruffled through the saddlebags, not bothering to turn around.

He didn't have to ask who Merlin meant.

"Who?" He asked anyway, his voice indifferent.

Merlin's head remained down, his fingers twisting the short blades of grass.

"Arth-," Merlin began, then cut himself off, remembering His Prince's biting demands.

"His- His highness," He said instead, the words weighing hard, then he added with a jolt as a new thought occurred to him, eyes flying upward, "Is he hurt? It looked as if the sorcerer had almost killed him!"

Merlin knew that that may be an exaggeration, but as Sir Allen didn't answer immediately, worry spiked in his chest and he scuttled quickly to his feet, half formed terrors already forming in his mind.

"Oh no… Please tell me he is okay!"

Sir Allen glanced over his shoulder, looking at the already half frantic boy.

He knew the lad had every right to be on edge, and although almost every fiber of his being rebelled from the thought of comforting a sorcerer, his felt his face soften.

"He is safe boy," the knight said simply, then after noticing that this answer didn't seem to satisfy the boy, added in a more reasonable tone, "His head took some damage but overall he is perfectly alright."

Sir Allen gave Merlin a pointed look, "Nothing to worry about."

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded quickly, letting out the pent up emotions a small part of him had been harboring since he had awoken.

Arthur was safe. Like he was supposed to be.

"Thank you." Merlin said sincerely, looking the knight in the eye, for he knew Arthur wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for his men, "Thank you very much."

Allen looked speculatively at the man before him. The man that before that awful day in the woods when he had taken an arrow for his prince, the knight had thought of as nothing more then a mere boy.

Sir Allen narrowed his eyes at the servant standing so rigidly, so uncomfortable, so scared. The man, the boy, the sorcerer.

Since when had any of them had the heart of a knight?

Sir Allen knew he could never personally trust Merlin, that it would be foolish to, but he also knew that this particular sorcerer seemed to have Arthur's back, and the knight had enough foresight to know not to jeopardize that.

He didn't even really want to.

Merlin was looking uncomfortable, and Sir Allen realized he was staring and quickly turned back to the saddlebags, not wanting to scare the poor lad off.

The boy had enough to deal with without adding a maudlin knight to his worries.

Merlin breathed in deeply and let the air out shakily, the peacefulness of the forest finally getting to him. He was by no means at ease, but the terror of that morning was beginning to fade away.

"So," Merlin began tentatively, "Really, where is he?"

The knight fished a loaf from the bag and turned around to answer, but stopped midway, staring at something over Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin waited, then shifted uncertainly.

"Well…?" he asked.

Sir Allen's eyes flashed back to Merlin, then gave him a slightly pointed look. The raven headed boy lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his head, staring at the knight in confusion.

"What?" he asked, oblivious.

The knight coughed, and Merlin became suddenly aware of someone behind him.

His insides melted, and he winced.

"Well, at least I know that your all around idiocy wasn't faked," A cold voice announced from behind.

Merlin's raised arm dropped lifelessly to his side, and almost limply, he turned around.

Arthur stood a few yards behind him, left hand dropped casually on his sword, his face guarded.

Merlin felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach at the remote, and very much reserved expression on His Prince's face. This didn't look good.

"After all," Arthur went on bitingly, "People need to be able to rely on _something_, and your unstableness seems to be the most stable thing about you."

The accusing venom in Arthur's voice felt like a slap in the face.

A venom Merlin had heard Arthur use before, but not towards him.

Never towards him.

"Sire…" Merlin stuttered, but didn't know how to continue. He wasn't prepared for this.

Arthur raised his eyebrows, inviting him to continue.

"Well?" Arthur asked, hiding behind a mocking demeanor.

The servant's heart twisted at how achingly normal Arthur looked- blonde hair ruffled, stance protective, but at the same time just how wrong.

"I- I'm sorry," Merlin finally forced out, eyes wide and head shaking back and forth almost indiscernibly.

"You're sorry?" Arthur laughed out humorlessly, eyes incredulous, if a bit sad, "You have let me believe for three years that I actually had someone by my side who I could trust! But in truth you have been lying to me from the beginning, and have been forcing your way into my confidence for reasons I cannot even begin to imagine!"

Shocked, Merlin grasped for something to say, something to bring everything back to normal between them.

"What? No, no Arthur you don't understand!"

Arthur snorted soundlessly, and lifted the hand that wasn't lying on his sword expressively in the air.

"Don't I?" The Prince challenged, his blue eyes staring hard into Merlin's, "Then please, explain."

From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Sir Borch move. The Prince tore his gaze away from the desperate boy long enough to glance at the knight. As he had suspected, Borch was drawing his sword.

"Wait," Arthur said, raising his hand a fraction, "I want to hear what he has to say."

Sir Borch looked reluctant.

"Sire," the knight protested in a low voice, "That, _thing,_" Borch waved a disgusted hand in Merlin's direction, "is a sorcerer! A murderer, a heartless evil, and the very one we are after to boot! Why, in the name of everything good and worthy, don't you want to kill it?"

Arthur's eyes flickered, and for the first time Merlin thought that he might be able to see the old Arthur, the protective friend, right behind the surface. But then the Prince's face morphed back into the bitter, somewhat cold expression he had harbored before, and Merlin was left to believe he had imagined it.

"He isn't just a sorcerer," Arthur replied to the knight, his voice careful, "He is a powerful one, so he may have valuable information for my father."

Sir Borch looked doubtful, "The King has never wished to question sorcerers before Milord, and he did give us orders to kill this one, so I don't see why…"

"You forget your place Sir Borch!" Arthur snapped, causing the knight to stare at him dumbfounded, "The King is not aware of the situation here, and would wish for me to deal with it as I see fit. I have my orders Borch, and you have yours."

Sulkily, the knight slammed his sword the rest of the way back into its sheath, angry, but sedated.

Arthur turned back on Merlin, eyes glinting a challenge.

"Well?" The Prince asked.

Merlin stared at his master in confusion.

"Sire?" he asked uncertainly.

Arthur grew impatient.

"I believe you were about to explain why you shoved your way into my court," Arthur demanded, his voice beginning to flare, "What possible reason could you have to want to hurt so many people? What could you possibly stand to gain?"

Merlin shook his head almost indiscernibly, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture.

"I was just trying to help you," He answered softly, hoping beyond hope that Arthur would understand.

"Help me?" Arthur asked disbelievingly, staring at Merlin like he'd never seen him before, "Why do you think I would ever want your help? You are everything we Pendragons hate!"

Merlin felt himself flinch, and the small part of him that recoiled from being exposed and vulnerable tried to cover it up, but nothing he could do would stop the irrepressible trembling that was beginning to take hold of him, and he knew Arthur saw it.

"Arthur…" Merlin said desperately, voice suspiciously wavering, "Please, just trust me."

At that the prince's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, deflated. Arthur looked at Merlin with the sadness that he had been hiding so well, finally showing.

"I think we are a bit beyond that now Merlin," Arthur said heavily, "Don't you?"

With that, Arthur strode past and marched wordlessly into the camp, his knights behind him.

Merlin watched him numbly.

He had failed. He really had.

Arthur hadn't forgiven him, probably never would… Why should he?

He had failed his destiny, and it was all his fault.

Merlin's despondent thoughts were broken by a bowl being shoved into his vision.

He glanced up half heartedly, taking the smallest of steps backwards.

Sir Allen stood in front of him with the stew and bread he had been preparing.

He shoved the bowl into Merlin's disinterested hands.

"Eat," The knight said simply, his voice brooking no argument.

Merlin stared at the stew, then looked back up at Sir Allen.

To his surprise, the boy actually saw something akin to sympathy in the knight's gaze.

No, not sympathy… an understanding.

It was so unexpected, so comforting, so needed, Merlin felt himself go slack. He was tired of fighting.

"We will be heading out of here soon," the knight said quietly, glancing up at the trees, "We need to inform the King that a war is coming, and soon."

Merlin looked up sharply.

"A war? What…?"

Sir Allen stared at him steadily.

"Cendred is launching an attack on Camelot," the knight said resignedly, looking at Merlin's slowly widening eyes, "It should reach us in only days, and we must prepare."

Merlin stared at the knight dumbfounded.

War, was coming to Camelot… His stomach lurched.

The kingdom had barely recovered from the last attack Cendred had thrown at them, and Merlin didn't think they could withstand another.

Camelot was still in a healing stage, and to break it open with war and death now may well be the end of it.

With the feeling of approaching danger now forefront in his mind, Merlin's demeanor began to change.

Whether he knew it or not, the dull hopelessness that had shrouded him before began to fall away, and was being replaced by an urgency that came only from the thought of your loved ones in danger.

"When?" He asked simply, "Who told you?"

Sir Allen raised his eyebrows.

"Well," He said slowly, "No one told me precisely, as Sir Norum and I were fighting when it happened, but an officer of Escetia cornered Arthur in an alley and simply told him that Cendred was after Camelot's blood, and that the king plans to launch his attack within the week."

Merlin's eyes had widened, but he didn't look as surprised as Sir Allen had expected him too.

"An officer?" the boy asked carefully, knowing with a surprising certainty which one.

"Aye, a captain, the same one that attacked in the woods to boot! What he is doing helping us, is anyone's guess."

Merlin shook his head, his suspicions confirmed. He would have smiled, but he found he really didn't have it in him. For reasons completely baffling to Merlin, Cal had decided that he was going to have his back- whether because Cal trusted him, or if it was simply for his own amusement remained a mystery.

"Sir Borch believes it's a trick, but in the end, it's the Prince's word he will follow," The knight added with a shrug of the shoulders.

"And, Arthur believes him?" Merlin asked, amazed that Arthur would trust someone who was for all apparent purposes their enemy.

Sir Allen stopped, contemplating the question.

"He seems to," The knight said slowly, then his face changed and he looked at Merlin carefully.

"And I trust in his judgment of character," He continued, giving Merlin a pointed look, "So I think you should too. He is a good prince, wise for his age, and I have faith in him to make the right decision."

With that the knight backed away, turning around to begin packing up camp.

Merlin watched the man leave, knowing what the knight had said was meant for him, but not daring to believe the hopeful words, for fear that they weren't true.

He didn't want to have to torture himself with false hopes and flitting desires.

It was so much easier to just let it all go. Less painful.

The feeling that he was being watched broke his train of thought.

It was like an itch in the back of his brain, and from the corner of his eye, Merlin noticed someone staring.

His eyes flickered towards the disturbance, his head turning just in time to see the hard face of Arthur hastily look away.

The Prince was leaning against a tree at the opposite end of the clearing, slightly away from the others.

His face now seemed to be deliberately turned away from him, but from what Merlin could see of it, it looked dark.

As the servant watched, he saw his master sigh almost imperceptibly, then straighten up and walk with purposeful strides towards his knights.

"Men," Arthur began, a note in his voice that had the entire party's immediate attention. He stopped in the center of the clearing, his left hand resting easily on his sword as everyone but Merlin who remained in the shadows gathered around him.

"I just have a few last minute instructions before you start towards Camelot," The Prince began, his voice projecting clearly.

"Firstly, let me just say that I can't begin to tell you how important it is for you to get there in time. I cannot possibly impress the need for speed and diligence enough, so please, ride hard, and do not stop until you see the bright colors of Camelot flying in the sky," Arthur paused, ignoring the confused glances the knights were throwing each other, "When you arrive, go to my father immediately, and inform him of the risk Cendred is creating, and that we must fight."

"But Sire," Sir Kay interrupted hesitantly, and Arthur turned to him, knowing what was coming, "Will you not be coming with us?"

Arthur shook his head once.

"I will not," The Prince said easily, "I do not trust the sorcerer to come with us, as he may hinder our journey, and this way I will have time to interrogate him properly."

"Sire!" Sir Borch protested, aghast, "You cannot possibly tell us that we are to leave you alone with this," he waved a disgusted hand in Merlin's direction, "_thing_! He is dangerous!"

Arthur turned on him, a false look of surprise on his face.

"I _can't_?" he asked conversationally, but with a hidden threat in his voice that made the knight firmly clamp his mouth.

"Forgive me Sire," Sir Borch mumbled through grit teeth, "I misspoke."

"Yes you did," The Prince agreed flippantly, tactfully ignoring the slight snort he heard from his servant in the trees, "I have every confidence that I can handle the sorcerer, and so should you."

Sir Borch frowned, and then tried to appeal on the Prince's common sense.

"Sire, you have no need to stay. If interrogation is all you are remaining for, trust me, I can handle that for you."

From the sidelines, Merlin's stomach fluttered.

"That will not be necessary," Arthur said tightly, "As I said, I can handle him myself."

Sir Borch dipped his head.

"Of course Sire," He said, all humility.

Arthur fought the urge to scowl, but managed to resume his speech seamlessly.

"Remember," The Prince said, beginning to pace, "Hard march. Only rest if it is absolutely necessary, and stay off the main roads. We never know what sort of people may be slinking about after nightfall, so for gods sake, keep an eye out."

Arthur paused, surveying the men around him.

They stared back.

"It is not possible to stress the importance of this mission enough," The Prince said quietly, "The fate of Camelot literally rides with you, so go, take only what you need, and do not look back."

The knights nodded solemnly, then waited to be dismissed.

Arthur looked at them all one second longer, then unsheathed his blade and lifted it high.

"For Camelot!" Arthur proclaimed loudly.

"For Camelot!" The knights echoed, then quickly moved away to begin packing up their belongings.

…

The knights moved swiftly, taking little, trying to travel as light as possible.

No one spoke much as they worked. They could all feel the tension building in the air between master and servant, and they all just wanted to leave.

Within the blink of an eye the horses were saddled, provisions stowed, and knights mounted.

Arthur was talking to Sir Kay in hushed tones, but nobody else in the clearing had the slightest desire to engage in conversation.

The horses nickered quietly to themselves, ready to be off.

From the sidelines, Merlin stared at the knights forlornly, now reluctant for them to leave.

Reluctant to be left with Arthur alone.

He knew the prince would want answers, answers he had a right to, and for the most part, Merlin would be happy to give them. Not just happy, he would be relieved. His secrets had been weighing him down for so long now, the lies sticking to his throat, and he was ready to let them go.

Most of them at least.

Merlin knew explaining his magic to Arthur would be hard, as so much hurt and pain surrounded that dreaded word, but he wasn't ashamed that he was Arthur's protector. He was terrified that Arthur would reject him, would send him to burn, but he didn't regret his actions.

But there were other things, things Merlin had done that he wasn't so proud of.

Things that were like a lump of grease in his chest, making him feel dirty, and Merlin couldn't bear the thought of bringing those into the open.

They belonged safely in the dark, where they couldn't hurt anyone.

It was just better that way, happier.

The problem was, Arthur had an uncanny ability of figuring things out for himself, and a small part of Merlin knew that he probably would and when that happened, the damage that would come from it would be irreparable.

But what could he do? All the things he had done… they were terrible! And so telling him now would be just as catastrophic… wouldn't it?

Merlin stuffed his hands into his trouser's pockets, his fingers subconsciously twisting the lumpy lining of the material nervously.

No, he could never let Arthur know the full truth.

Some secrets, some lies, were his burden to bear forever.

His eyes drifted unconsciously over the mounted knights, surveying one hard face after another unchecked, only to run right into the inquisitive gaze of Sir Norum.

The knight was staring at him oddly, and Merlin got the unnerving feeling that the man could read his thoughts as easily as if they were being laid out before him.

Merlin hastily looked away, fingers twisting in their pockets faster then ever.

His chest twittered nervously a couple of moments later, as Arthur nodded then slowly stepped back from Sir Kay, their discussion over.

"Very well," The Prince said with a sigh, glancing momentarily at Merlin, "If it makes you feel better, but I believe it unnecessary."

Sir Kay looked relieved.

"This is only for my peace of mind Sire," The knight replied, getting off his horse and ruffling through his saddlebags, "Please, just humor me."

The knight revealed a coiled rope and quickly untangled it, then turned his head warily in Merlin's direction.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. He had a pretty good idea as to what was coming.

The knight held out one hand in front of him and slowly began walking forward, as if he were trying to catch a stray horse, not a boy.

Merlin unconsciously took a step backwards.

"Steady," Sir Kay said in a soft voice, "Don't do anything rash, or it will cost you dearly. For safety purposes, I am just going to tie you to the tree, nothing more."

Merlin quickly glanced at Arthur, who had conveniently turned his head away, an odd expression on his face.

"Steady," the Knight said again, "I am not going to hurt you."

"Which is a shame really," Borch mumbled moodily to himself, glaring daggers in Merlin's direction.

Sir Kay ignored him, and upon realizing that Merlin wasn't going to bolt or try to defend himself, quickly closed in the gap between them.

Grabbing Merlin's arm, the clean shaven knight daftly looped the rough rope around the boy's thin wrist, feeling the sorcerer flinch beneath him. He held out his hand for Merlin's other arm, and hesitantly, the boy slowly gave it to him.

Sir Kay's eyebrows rose slightly at the sorcerer's compliance, but he quickly looped the rope around Merlin's second wrist, tying the two together with a firm sailors knot.

Satisfied with his handiwork, the knight nodded to himself, then grabbed Merlin by the upper forearm and quickly walked him backwards to the tree behind him.

He could feel Merlin tense at his touch.

"Easy," the knight mumbled.

Merlin relaxed slightly under his hand, and wordlessly the knight led him so his back was to the tree, then daftly threw the rope around the rough trunk, securing him firmly, but not cruelly.

Sir Kay quickly doubled checked his handiwork, then stepped back, apparently content.

"Thank you Sire," Sir Kay said, relieved that his prince would at least have this minor protection against the sorcerer.

Arthur nodded briefly. He seemed distracted.

"Yes, of course."

Sir Kay glanced behind him at the waiting knights, and sighed.

"We should be off, I suppose."

Arthur stepped forward and shook the man's arm firmly.

"Gods speed on your journey."

The knight gave an answering nod, then lightly sprung onto his horse, flicking the reins for the animal to turn, in one smooth movement.

The other knights followed his example, and began to move their horses out of the clearing. When they hit the beginning of the shrubbery however, Sir Kay stopped, and turned his head over his shoulder to address his Prince a final time.

"Watch your back Milord," the knight advised solemnly, eyes flickering pointedly in Merlin's direction, "as we will not be here to watch it for you."

Arthur didn't respond, and with a nod of respect, the knight turned his head towards the forest and with a sharp kick trotted in, the rest of the men moments behind him, breathing silent sighs of relief to finally be free of the uncomfortable clearing.

Arthur remained motionless as the sharp sounds of horses careening over broken logs and under swaying branches slowly faded away, and only the playful sounds of singing birds filled the tense atmosphere.

Merlin's heart beat quickened, pounding hard and growing warm in his chest.

He only had view of the Prince's back, but even from this angle the servant could see the rigidness in Arthur's posture, but the well stifled sigh that escaped the man's weary form was lost on the boy.

The servant waited, a silence that never would have existed between them before almost growing painful.

Arthur still did not turn around.

Indecision tugged at Merlin, whose mind was racing, unsure how to begin.

"Sire?" The boy asked hesitantly, coming to a decision.

At first the Prince didn't respond, and Merlin would have been led to believe that he had not heard but for the fact that one of the more prominent muscles on his master's neck tightened, protruding from the normally smooth skin.

"Well?" Arthur finally asked, guardedly.

Merlin let out a shaky breath.

"Wh-what are you going to do with me?"

Another long silence in the clearing.

"According to my father, you are going to be executed," the Prince said tightly.

Merlin's stomach rolled sickeningly, but he stubbornly quenched the feeling, refusing to accept that answer.

"Sire you," Merlin stumbled, his voice not entirely level, "you are going to kill me?"

Arthur let out a sharp, humorless laugh, making Merlin jump. Shaking his head the prince aimlessly walked a couple paces to the side, still not looking in Merlin's direction as if his face would bring the plague.

"Kill you! Well, that's just the problem isn't it? You are someone I used to think I knew rather well, and we have spent almost every waking hour of three years together, so for the life of me, as much as I have reasoned to and argued with myself, I just don't think I have it in me to be your death! My father would call me cowardly, and for once I think I may agree with him."

Merlin slumped in his bonds, feeling almost dizzy with a mix of conflicting emotions. The relief he felt was very much real, but it paled in comparison with the aching sense of loss that bit so deep.

"Thank you," the boy said quietly, looking at the ground.

Arthur shook his head, staring off into the trees.

"Don't thank me yet. In fact, don't thank me at all, because I am not doing this for you, I am doing this for someone who truly never existed at all. So really Merlin- or Emrys, or whatever else your name may be, don't thank me!"

The bitter grief in the words felt like a slap in the face.

What they had had, they no longer shared. Merlin knew that.

Arthur was merely acknowledging it, but it still hurt.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably against the ropes binding him, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Look I, I'm sorry. I never… I never meant for it to be like this. I wanted to tell you, I really did- you have no idea what it does to you to have to hide such a huge part of who you are… I hated every minute of it! I just didn't really have much choice in the matter-" Merlin faltered as Arthur angrily swung around, looking at him for the first time, a disbelieving expression on his face.

"Didn't have a choice in the matter?" the Prince asked mockingly, making Merlin want to kick himself for his poor choice of words, "Well in that case, I suppose all is forgiven! After all, it isn't your fault you have had to study the most malicious, harmful art known to man… you just couldn't help yourself, the desire for power was just too tempting! And it isn't your fault you are now going to severely hurt everyone who has ever cared for you with the knowledge that you are a fake and a fraud… because secretly you never really wanted to, it just happened that way and you knew they would deal with it… eventually. So naturally Merlin, _how could I not understand?_"

The accusations stung, and Merlin wasn't sure if he was more hurt or indignant.

"It wasn't like that," the boy said defensively, his voice low, "I never wanted to deceive them. Having to lie every moment of the day is a horrible, horrible fate, one that I wouldn't wish on anyone, but I had to! Don't you see? I never asked for magic Arthur! I was born with it and now I'm stuck with it! It is my gift, and I love it, but often I ask myself if it isn't a curse as well. I never wanted to lie, or commit treason, or hurt _anyone_. I was just born, and now my very existence is wrong!"

Arthur stared at him.

"_Don't_ lie to me Merlin," Arthur said angrily, then added in a softer tone, "We both know that it is not possible."

Merlin shook his head. He was beginning to talk, beginning to get the things that had been plaguing him his entire life off his chest, and he didn't want to stop.

"Normally you would be correct, but the rules bent themselves in my case."

Arthur snorted soundlessly and looked away.

The scary thing was, Merlin didn't sound like he was lying.

Shaking his head the prince began to advance closer to his manservant.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded, staring hard at Merlin's face.

The boy shrugged, looking almost sad.

"I am different," He said simply, not sure how else to put it, "Special, I suppose you could say."

Arthur halted abruptly, standing only a little more than a meter away.

His eyes bored into Merlin's, and they wouldn't let him go.

"Is that true?" The prince asked probingly, staring Merlin down, "How can I be sure you are you telling the truth?"

Merlin shook his head, a sad, but resigned look on his face.

"You can't," he said quietly, then his eyes lowered, "You are just going to have to trust me."

Arthur shook his head slowly, once, but didn't respond.

Merlin's eyes flickered back upwards, and he shrugged in forced resolve.

"Then, I suppose, that's that…" Merlin said heavily, his eyes still uncertain.

Arthur remained silent, watching him guardedly.

Merlin looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Swear to me," Arthur ordered softly.

Merlin looked up.

"Sire…?"

Arthur took a step forward.

"Swear to me on any friendship we ever used to share," The prince demanded, eyes staring at Merlin hard, "Swear to me, that you have never tried to hurt anyone I love, that you have _only_ ever used magic for good, and swear to me, that you are telling the truth!"

Merlin looked Arthur directly in the eye.

"I swear," he said softly, willing Arthur to trust him.

Arthur's eyes narrowed, looking at Merlin as if he were trying to read right into his heart.

Finally, his face cleared, and Arthur took a small step backwards.

"Then I believe you," he said quietly, then slowly turned around, and walked out of the clearing, leaving Merlin alone.

…

The weak form of Maggot shuffled after Bayard's sentries into the Mercian war camp, pausing to view the disciplined line of soldiers marching past to train.

The once peaceful forest was now filled with the ringing of hammers, and the shouts of captains berating their men.

The sentries brushed past a group of lounging men and marched through a logical cluster of small, but effective tents, not stopping until they reached the large command tent which held Bayard and his closest advisors.

Maggot slowly limped past the guards patrolling the tent's entrance, and ducked into the large interior.

As the tent flap fell behind him, Bayard glanced up from the men giving reports. As his gaze landed on Maggot, the King's shoulders seemed to slump almost imperceptibly.

However, his welcome didn't give the slightest hint as to his discomfort.

"Maggot," Bayard said pleasantly, "What a wonderful surprise. Do, come in."

Maggot looked at the advisors distrustfully, and Bayard got the hint.

"You are dismissed," he told to them with a wave of his hand, "We will resume this meeting later."

"Of course Your Majesty," the men murmured, each giving a respectful bow as they left.

Bayard turned back to the man before him, schooling his features into a smile.

"So, tell me, what brings me the pleasure of your company?"

Maggot didn't return the smile.

"I bring word from the Lady Morgause," the man said flatly, "She commanded me to tell you that the time is ripe for war, and that the Red Swan soars."

Bayard nodded, sinking into his command chair wearily, "You may tell her that my men will march at sunrise."

Maggot smiled bloodlust in his eyes, "As you wish Milord."

…..

_The flames were licking hungrily at the platform, sizzling and throwing sparks into the air, getting closer and closer._

_Merlin wanted to run, to flee, to escape it all, but he couldn't._

_The ropes bit into him from all sides, holding him in place, squeezing tighter and tighter. He wanted to get out!_

Merlin's eyes snapped open to a flash of blinding light, and a groaning crack hit his ears.

Above him, something big moved, and Merlin's groggy eyes looked up just in time to see the tree he had been tied to teeter uncertainly towards him.

Weariness falling away as if it had never existed, Merlin yelped and skittered to the side on his hands and knees, hearing the massive trunk give out behind him, and the tree crash onto the ground he had been restlessly sleeping on moments before, in an explosion of stray branches and sharp twigs.

Merlin pushed his face into the ground and covered his head, squeezing his eyes shut and only opening them when the last of the debris had settled.

The boy peeked one eye open, then the other.

Hesitantly sitting up, Merlin turned around to assess the damage, wide-eyed and confused.

The tree had fallen directly into the camp, narrowly missing the campfire, and officially dubbing bird-food a sack of stale provisions.

Dumbfounded, Merlin switched his gaze to the perfectly sliced stump that was all that was left of the once majestic tree.

Now Merlin knew he wasn't exactly a genius in botany, but he was sure it was safe to say that trees don't crack in a perfectly level line… at least not naturally anyway.

Not naturally… Merlin's eyes flew to his wrists.

They were raw and covered in rope burns, but they were free.

He had wanted to get out, and he had.

Groaning, Merlin rubbed his hands through his hair, understanding dawning on him.

He had been having a nightmare, and his magic had reacted instinctively, blowing away the tree that was holding him in place, and more than likely disintegrating the ropes.

He needed to get better control of himself, this flippant, raw display of power was getting dangerous…

But that was a problem for another day.

Rubbing his eyes to clear his head, Merlin looked about him, half expecting to see an irate prince scowling down at him.

The clearing was deserted however, and he was alone with only the birds for company.

Merlin sighed, then shakily stood up, glancing at the woods around him for any sign of Arthur.

He hadn't spoken to him since the prince had walked off, and by the position of the sun in the sky, Merlin guessed that that had been hours ago.

He wanted to talk to him, wanted to put everything right.

But apparently, he would have to wait.

The servant yawned expressively and stretched, his muscles cramped from hours jammed in the same position.

His mouth felt uncomfortably dry, and Merlin realized that he hadn't had anything to drink since the night before.

His stomach felt tight from lack of water.

The boy wandered to the saddlebags thrown carelessly by the fire, ruffling through them in search of a canteen.

He found one, but to his dismay when he shook it it felt almost empty.

He could hear a stream gurgling not too far off, and with a shrug of the shoulders decided that since Arthur would probably not be back until later, it was okay to leave for at least a little while.

Straightening up, Merlin headed off in the direction of the stream, drinking greedily from what was left of the canteen's contents on the way.

As he had expected, the water wasn't far off, and when he spotted it, he was relieved to see a small brook gurgling at the bottom of the hill.

Practically stumbling towards it, now desperate for something to drink, Merlin unceremoniously plopped down on the bank and began scooping water greedily into his mouth, stubbornly ignoring the small bits of sand and dirt he drank accidentally in his haste.

It took thirty seconds for him to remember to breathe.

Maybe if he had been paying a bit more attention, he would have noticed the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.

And maybe, if he had been paying a bit more attention, he would have noticed the soft sound of a sword sliding from its well oiled sheath.

Yet as it was, he only noticed the existence of another as the sharp metal point was lightly placed on the back of his neck, causing him to freeze in mid-swallow.

"So I had a friend," the easy voice of Arthur began conversationally from behind him, causing Merlin's stomach to drop, "That was a general in Mercia's army, and whenever a prisoner of war escaped him only to be captured once more, he would offer them a choice."

The prince paused, going for theatrical effect.

Merlin's stiffened muscles slowly loosened as he sensed the ease in Arthur's tone.

Oddly enough, the prince seemed almost cheerful.

"They could either to agree to wait the however many years until they would be either sold as slaves or ransomed, or they could face him in a duel. If they fought him and won, then they would earn the freedom of themselves and their entire family, but if they lost, they had to agree that they would without argument or resistance, serve him and _his_ family for what was left of their lives, and vow to never again go home, even if the rest of their family was set free. They vowed, that they would be stuck with him forever."

Merlin's eyebrow quirked.

"Uh, ok," the boy said uncertainly. He was confused, but he was sure Arthur would tell him his point without having to be prompted.

"So it is fitting, don't you think, for me to do the same with you now, considering your obvious love for running away."

Startled, Merlin quickly turned his head to look over his shoulder, staring at Arthur disbelievingly.

"_What_…?" Merlin asked, knowing this couldn't possibly be good, "You can _not_ be serious!"

Arthur bobbed his eyebrows, and stepped back, sheathing his sword.

Merlin found himself responding to the Prince's cheerfulness. He couldn't help but be infected by the Prince's good humor- as unexpected, and entirely confusing as it was.

"Oh but I am! Catch!" Apparently out of nowhere, the Prince revealed a large, perfectly straight stick, and tossed it easily in Merlin's direction.

Not surprisingly, the boy's hand didn't make it to the stick in time, and the would-be-weapon clattered onto the ground beside him, half of it landing in the brook with a splash.

The prince picked up an almost perfectly identical one from the ground, twirling it in his hands experimentally.

"Well come on then," Arthur said happily, an almost evil glee in his eyes, "Don't you want to earn your freedom?"

Shaking his head, Merlin grabbed his weapon none too gently, and pushed himself with a sigh to his feet.

"Not really," the servant said, distrustfully eying Arthur's stick, "I don't stand a chance, so I really don't see why you even bother."

Arthur smirked.

Nope, not a good sign.

"You are my prisoner," the prince said innocently, "and you escaped! You must admit, the circumstances fit. Besides, why miss out on a chance to thoroughly beat you into a pulp? I am an opportunist."

Merlin glared, but it didn't seem to have much effect on the laughing noble.

"Ready?" Arthur asked, getting into his normal fighting stance.

Merlin shook his head in disbelief.

He was actually serious.

What had caused Arthur's sudden change of heart, Merlin couldn't even begin to imagine, but a small part of him knew that when he had sworn his innocence, Arthur had begun to trust him, and maybe, just maybe, the prince was finally coming to terms with it all.

"No," Merlin said, but in spite of himself he felt himself begin to smile.

"Good," Arthur smiled brightly, then without warning, lunged forward.

Merlin yelped and dove to the side as the Prince swatted at him, covering his head more with his hands then with his stick.

Arthur snorted and thwacked him solidly on the arm.

"Come on Merlin, you're not even trying!"

Arthur flicked the stick quickly at the other arm, causing Merlin to hastily jump back, stumbling over stray twigs and larger rocks.

"Yes I am! I just don't like the idea of whacking people around the head with sticks as much as you obviously seem to," Merlin quipped, holding his weapon outstretched in front of him with both hands.

Arthur shook his head in mock sympathy, still advancing forward.

"That's okay, I have always known your taste isn't as impeccable as my own."

He dove forward once more, sending Merlin scampering backwards once again.

The prince rolled his eyes.

"And to think," He said conversationally to himself, "That this is the same man who regularly saves my life."

Merlin almost dropped his stick, surprise etched on his face.

"What did you say?" He asked uncertainly, holding up his weapon in an attempt to block a blow.

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Well, am I not correct in believing that you are responsible for the many fortunate 'coincidences' that have surrounded my life since the day you arrived?"

Merlin ducked a wild swing over his head.

"Uhh," He stuttered, not believing what he was hearing, "Well, yes, I- I suppose…"

Arthur smiled to himself.

"Thought so," He said between blows, enjoying the look on Merlin's face, "You see, recently, I have been thinking."

"Careful," Merlin muttered unthinkingly.

Arthur glared at him, but continued on seamlessly.

"And while I was walking in the woods, I realized that there have been a lot of would-be deadly situations that I have gotten out of entirely unharmed, with positively no explanation. I believe you know what I am talking about."

Merlin tripped, and Arthur gave him a solid whack to the head.

"Owwww! What was that for?" The boy groaned, bringing his pathetic stick up defensively.

Arthur didn't continue with his assault however, but calmly waited for Merlin to look at him again.

When he finally did, Arthur's face was serious.

"So that being said, there is only one thing I cannot understand," The Prince said quietly, looking Merlin straight in the face.

Arthur lifted his hands fractionally.

"Why did you come to Camelot?"

Wincing, Merlin massaged his head, but Arthur could see the smile that was starting to develop on his manservant's face.

In fact, if Arthur looked close enough, the weary sadness that had always rested right behind Merlin's eyes was beginning to fade, and slowly, ever so slowly, it was being replaced by some bright hope.

The boy shrugged.

"I don't know… destinies are troublesome things, and they can get you into confusing, maddening, and even deadly situations, but in the end, they always seem to plop you down right where you need to be, and somehow, you just know that everything is going to be alright."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, then determined to get a real answer out of Merlin later. Yet somehow, he thought he understood.

Without warning, Arthur thwacked Merlin lightly in rapid succession on the arms, legs, and chest, causing the boy to yelp, and raise his hands up hopelessly.

With a flick of the wrist, Arthur sent Merlin's weapon flying, then placing his leg in a strategic place behind Merlin's feet, he knocked him solidly on the head once more.

Merlin bolted backwards, staggered, and fell groaning to the ground.

Arthur smiled and placed the point of his stick to Merlin's throat.

"Well then, I guess that settles it," the prince said flippantly, but his eyes were serious, "You are stuck with me forever."

With that, Arthur turned on his heel, and walked away, leaving a moaning, but strangely lighthearted Merlin laying on the bank behind him.

…

**Awwww, happiness! *violins squeal* That- that was just beautiful. Sorrrry, another late night.**

**Okay-seys, you know what happens next! …. Are you at the edge of your seats? Are you just dying with anticipation? I hope not… cause then you may sue…**

**Anyways, thank you sooo very much… Notquitebezerk, Ebonyice, 1, Falling Down The Stairs, Ruby890, Eclipseoftheheart17, Wisegirl24256, Castwomanswrath, Cwam, Emachinescat, Suzie, Lilyplusjamesistotallove, Whirlwind421, llLethell, The 10-11 Doctors, Nykskyblue, Rawr52, Ariacle, Coby, Katherine Moonhawk, Micro Chibi Baka San, Ringo's imaginarycat, TaintedXIllusion, 104Arianna, Imperial Mint, Teenmuggle, Arbitrary9, Klester1987, Sydelle Rein, DragonGem777, SilverHeart09, DragonflyonBreak, BabyGlover, Kjate95, Hazelbunny, I Am Theta Sigma, Chibiotaku, Sesshouluver, Owl Watcher, HanaSolo, Jissai, CollinFan, Yabbit, Bookaddict27, Nekomata Hanyou, xLadyxAmbrosiusx, Moonchild08, Acklesaddict, Mel, NoReallyIDontCare, MissOrange8587, Kaykit, Jayley, CM, Ellie, Lindaaa, Kitty O, Noelle, Dor, WaffleDragon, Tagrea, 98Penguin, LikeIdTellU, Magicflower23684, and Highlord24, AzraelLilith,Sandfulla, ArodieltheelfofRohan, Jade W, Airdria, InjiEmrys, Ireland - hime, Android . Girl, Wildfire 2, Nitka, Laura, Shadowsonicstar, samwise o'Keefe, and Anonymous**

**Thanks again! You have no idea how much you guys mean to us! I know we have been terrible with our updates, so I just want to take my imaginary hat off to all of you, for staying with us for so long.**

**Thank you!**


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